Matchmakers, Inc
by Kaoru2.50
Summary: At long last, Seamus' plan has come to fruition when Harry and Draco finally admit their feelings for one another. Harry has a surprise in store that Draco won't soon forget. ::M for content in later chapters:: Last Chapter up.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series or any of its characters.**

**Matchmakers, Inc.**: It starts

By: Kaoru2.50

Dean Thomas had started the company while he was still in school. The purpose of Matchmakers Inc. was to help everyone find that perfect match and no one was better at it than Dean. His partner in business and his own true match, Seamus Finnigan, was nearly as gifted. The company was a raging success, making perfect matches for every customer. They were a never-fail duo and by the end of the war, nearly a year after graduation, the two had made enough money to live comfortably without ever actually working. Then the accident happened.

Harry Potter sighed heavily and collapsed on the sofa next to his friend. At last, the room was empty, devoid of all the annoying people whose looks of pity directed at Seamus were enough to drive an observer crazy, much less the intended target. He glanced at the Irishman from beneath his thick fringe of bangs. The sight of his normally hyperactive friend sitting so dejectedly head in his hands and curled up into himself almost brought the hero to tears. And he didn't cry easily, not since Dumbledore.

He reached out, awkwardly patting his friend's back. Seamus looked up and Harry gasped at the unshed tears shining in the dark orbs. "Merlin, Seamus, its okay to cry!" the brunet exclaimed softly before pulling his friend into his arms. He rubbed calming circles on Seamus' back as the former Gryffindor sobbed brokenly into Harry's shoulder, tears drenching the dark shirt Harry had worn to the funeral. For a time, the two did nothing else, and gradually the sobs became sniffles and Seamus lifted his head.

Harry watched as the Irish wizard wiped his red-rimmed eyes dry, noting how tired the other man looked. "Seamus, you should get some rest," he said, concerned for his former dorm-mate. The other man shook his head and met Harry's worried gaze with a slight grin. "Its okay, Harry," the Irishman said. "I'll be okay. Dean wouldn't want me to be so depressed all the time." Harry smiled a little too. "Yeah, and it has been a few week since you last showed your teeth." Seamus rolled his eyes and shot back "How'd you feel if the one you loved…if he…" Tears began to well up in Seamus' eyes again and Harry reached out to comfort the man. Seamus waved his friend's hands away. "I deal with it Harry. You won't be here every time I think of him, okay? I can take care of it by myself."

Harry listened quietly as Seamus spoke and could almost sense the moment his friend had succeeded in willing his tears away. "There," Seamus said with a grin. "See. I can do it. I'm fine." Harry shook his head and stood, brushing his hand over his shoulder in an attempt to flatten the wrinkles caused by the other man's tears. "That's good then, Seamus. I have to go meet Ron and Hermione." He slanted a look down at the still-sitting Irishman. "Do you want to come?" he asked hesitantly and wasn't surprised when his friend just shook his head. Harry sighed and Seamus looked up.

"Its not that I blame them! I know it wasn't their fault," he said vehemently. "I know it was Dean's idea to take the car, but…but I just can't…I just can't see them yet. Not yet, Harry." Harry nodded, looking away from the pleading dark eyes. He cleared his throat a few times before asking "Are you sure you'll be okay by yourself?" Seamus nodded and said yes a bit more forcefully than necessary. Harry ruffled the short sandy hair of his friend before letting himself out, throwing a "Call if you need anything" over his shoulder as the door shut.

Seamus Finnigan sighed and leaned deeply into the cushions. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to keep more tears from falling. He needed to do something to keep his mind off the funeral. He knew Dean was gone, knew he'd never see the grin he loved so much again, knew he'd never be held in his strong arms again. That didn't mean he could mope forever and he wouldn't. Tomorrow, Seamus decided, he would set about making another match. Harry was single, he mused. Harry would make for a perfect target. Tomorrow, though. Tonight, he just wanted to curl up and say good-bye to Dean.

**A/N: Okay so there's the set-up chapter. Sorry it's a little depressing. Well, I think so anyway… I promise to bring in Draco next chapter. I love reviews! So post one, yeah?**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well, here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. **

**Matchmakers, Inc.:** What happens when…?

Seamus Finnigan glanced quickly around the room then sent up a silent message to Dean Thomas. "Okay, Dean," he thought. "Wonderful genius that I am, I need your help on this one! Who is the perfect love for Harry James Potter?" At the moment, he was sitting quite comfortably on the leather lounge chair outside the conference room in which Harry endeavored to convince a roomful of stuffy old wizards that werewolves happened to make completely competent teachers.

Seamus thought it was a fool's errand but had shown up to provide 'moral support.' Besides, Lupin had been the only halfway DADA teacher they'd had in all their years at Hogwarts. Well, except for Mad Eye Moody, but he didn't think the new students should be subjected to …what was it? Constant Vigilance! Seamus chuckled quietly to himself and looked up in time to catch a flash of blond hair. Funny how it reminded him of…oh, wait. It was Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy was an odd one, even Seamus, with all his eccentricities, could admit that. Everyone thought he was the perfect Deatheater, yet in the end he'd turned right around, not only helping to destroy his own father but also bringing down most of the Deatheaters with the man. A tremendous help to Harry, that. Then he'd even gone so far as to decline any and all repayment, instead seeming to disappear for a full six months before returning as the head of a powerful new company. Draco Malfoy had gone into business designing and selling clothes with his one-time fiancée and best friend, Pansy Parkinson. Both of whom were single.

A slow grin spread across Seamus' face. Perfect. And how cliché. Potter and Malfoy, school-yard rivals, could complement one another in every way. He could already see it happening. Faintly, he heard a laugh that sounded too familiar and knew that, wherever he was, Dean agreed with him. Seamus settled back in the chair to plot his next course of action.

Harry walked briskly from the conference room, motioning with his hand for Seamus to follow him, and made his way quickly to his office. As soon as the door was closed and the silencing spell was in place, he let out a huge whoop. "I did it, Seamus! They're letting Remus go back for a year on probation!" Happily, the two jumped around the room, feeling very much like the third-years who had learned from the werewolf.

"That's amazing, Harry! How'd you do it?" Seamus asked the waved a hand, stopping any reply Harry would have given. "Scratch that. You're the bloody savior of the world. We should be more surprised that they didn't give in sooner." Harry couldn't stop his grin. "As much as I'd like to say it wasn't, that probably was the reason they agreed. At this point, I don't much care. I can't wait to tell Remus!" The brunet danced around the room, knowing it was undignified and not caring the Seamus was watching. When he'd calmed down enough to sit and begin his letter to Remus, the Irishman spoke again, leaning forward on the desk. "Well, then Harry, it being such wonderful news and all, why don't we have a party and celebrate." Harry sobered a bit and looked up to meet Seamus' gaze. "Are you…are you alright to have a party? Its only been a month since…the accident."

Seamus rolled his eyes and laughed to hide the burning sensation that meant tears were threatening. "Of course I'm alright. Didn't we agree to that already?" He straightened and walked to the door. "Besides, it's time for my return to the world. It's way too boring at home with no one's life to screw around with. So I'll make all the arrangements. You and Lupin meet me at the Three Broomsticks at seven tonight, okay?" Then the Irishman was gone. Harry rolled his eyes with a grin and returned to his letter. At least, Seamus was coping. He couldn't ask for anything else at this point.

"Absolutely not! No way in Hell am I going to that party, Pansy Parkinson, and you cannot make me!" The voice echoed out through the thick door of the office, startling the secretary at the desk outside into dropping her magazine. Inside the office, Draco Malfoy threw a half-finished shirt at his friend and business partner. Pansy caught the shirt and dropped it in the nearest chair before walking forward to stare at the man, hands on her hips in a way that screamed determination.

"And why not, Draco Malfoy? Have other plans for tonight, do you?" she asked snidely, already knowing the answer. The tall blond fell gracefully into his chair. "You know I don't Pansy. But how could you agree to me going?" He leaned forward to glare at her. "You know I do not exactly get along with Potter and his friends." Pansy waved a dismissive hand as she dropped into her own seat. "Please, Draco. Understatement of the century. You don't 'exactly get along' with anybody." Her brow arched as she leaned forward. "How did you expect me to turn down a request from Dean Thomas' lover on your behalf, hmm? You owe Dean too much for me to do that and we both know it."

Draco groaned as he nodded. True, it was the former Gryffindor who had helped him as he began his business. They had met in the art classes Dean taught in the evenings. From there, the other man had become his mentor, as much as it galled him to admit. Without Dean's help, Draco knew he wouldn't be sitting here as the head of a multi-million galleon organization, designing clothes as he'd always wanted to. "Alright, alright," he sighed. "I'll go." He looked up to glare at Pansy, who was grinning smugly. "I hate it when you guilt trip me. It's so bloody annoying."

Pansy stood and skipped to the door. "You better get started on choosing your clothes for tonight, Draco. Seamus knows some pretty cute dudes and he's in charge of the guest list." Draco felt himself flush. Honestly, tell the girl you think her ex has a nice ass once, and she never lets you forget it. Too bad the man's face hadn't been as nice. Or his personality, come to think of it. Draco got up to prepare for the party. Even if no one cute attended it, someone who designed and sold clothing for a living couldn't show up in anything that was less than perfect. What kind of publicity would that be?

**A/N: Okay, there it is. Now that you've read it, how about a review, hmm? Oh, and thanks to everyone who reviewed! I kinda forgot to write down your names so I'll thank you properly in the next chapter. Promise!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Ack! Sorry this took so long. My week has been crazy and I wasn't able to get to a computer. Anyway… Okay! As promised here's a list of people I'd like to thank for the reviews. Ready? Skirted, Dru Black, myniepheonix, SpeechlessQuestion, AlwaysWrittenSomethin, lillyandjames4eva, and xxXC8Xxx. Whew, seven in the first chapter. Yay! Ahem. Anyway, next chapter. Right.**

**Matchmakers, Inc:** Time to Party

Draco Malfoy stood at the door to the Three Broomsticks. He didn't want to go in there. A single glance through the window confirmed his suspicions. Former Gryffindors were everywhere. To be fair, he had spotted former members of each of the other houses, like Luna Lovegood, Cho Chang, and the chubby blond Hufflepuff whose name he never could remember. Even Blaise Zabini, formerly of Slytherin, was there. The sight of him brought an embarrassed flush to Draco's face and almost set him heading back through the door. He glared fiercely down at the firm hand preventing his escape. Damn Pansy anyway.

"Look, I came, okay?" he growled out as he tried to remove his arm from his friend's grip. "Now let go so I may leave!" The last came out on a furious hiss and was accompanied by a quelling glare that only inspired a gentle smile from the woman. "You're not scared are you, Draco?" Draco rolled his eyes and said, "Of course not." He only dug his feet in a little as Pansy dragged him over to greet Seamus Finnigan.

The next five minutes came very close to being the most awkward five minutes of his life. At least number four on his list of Top Ten Most Uncomfortable Moments. Finnigan was nice enough, but it was difficult knowing that obviously Dean had explained many things about Draco Malfoy to the sandy haired Irishman. Not the least of which seemed to include his involvement in Dumbledore's death. Yes. An awkward social situation, and one from which Draco escaped as quickly as possible. He'd dressed up, shown up and spoken to the host. Now the stairs over in the corner beckoned him, promising a small bit of solitude he eagerly grasped.

A sigh of relief left his lips as he leaned against the railing and watched the people below. How many of them knew what he had done? How many knew of his attempts at atonement? Draco ran a hand through his hair, careful not to muss it too much. After all, he was a walking advertisement for his clothes. Besides, he still held the hope that, after he'd calmed down a bit and Blaise had left, he could find someone to talk to. It was true. Finnigan did know many cute people. Draco shrugged. Probably came with the business.

Harry Potter stood in the crowded barroom and shook his head as he watched Seamus flit between groups of people. If he was back to being his old 'social butterfly' self maybe he was a bit better. The brunet tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his dark shirt. As for him, too many people were a hassle. Excusing himself from the group he'd been talking to- or rather, the group that had been talking around him- Harry made his way across the room to a flight of stairs. The stairs led to a loft, overlooking the crowd below without being stuffed with party-goers. Seamus just knew way too many people.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Harry glanced around. Except for one man leaning casually against the rail, the loft was deserted. Even better. He didn't think he could handle couples making out up here. He recognized most of the people at the party. They'd gone to Hogwarts and had all had Remus for a professor. More importantly, they had all been clients for Dean and Seamus, which meant that they were all taken. Himself, Remus, and Seamus excluded. What a pain. No cute girl to even flirt with.

Harry came to rest on the railing, assuming a pose like that of the man a few feet away and watching the well-dressed figure from the corner of his eye. He was leaning forward, obviously watching the party below, legs crossed at the ankles and arms crossed lightly at the wrists. Harry couldn't tell who the man was because his face was hidden by a curtain of blond hair that had escaped from behind his ear. Harry frowned. Something niggled at the back of his mind, exclaiming in exasperating tones that he should recognize that hair.

Shrugging, he ignored the voice and looked down searching the room for his werewolf friend. It didn't take long to find him. Remus stood next to Seamus laughing softly. It was good to see him smiling again. It had taken a full year for him to get over the death of Sirius, and being in a relationship with Tonks had helped him to do so. Then Tonks had gone missing during a secret mission for the Order. Harry knew his friend still held on to the belief that she would return. He hoped she would as well. Being able to teach again would help pass the time spent waiting for her.

Harry frowned thoughtfully as a new person joined the group. She looked familiar, with long dark hair artfully arranged to best show off the clinging silk shirt she wore. She laughed and smiled with Seamus and Remus as if they'd known one another for years. With a start, he realized they had. But why the hell was Pansy Parkinson here? And if she were here, that meant…His gaze flew around the room. Wasn't he…? Harry smacked his forehead with the butt of his hand, a habit he'd picked up for when he encountered extreme stupidity. His own in this case. Gently rubbing the red mark he turned to face the stranger standing a few feet from him. "Mal…," he cleared his throat and tried again in a stronger tone. "Malfoy?"

Draco knew when the other man arrived, had been watching cautiously to see what he would do. He noticed the clothes first and wondered who would show up to a party in a business suit. Not that it didn't look good on him. That hair though. Dark and, from the way the light gleamed on it, silky but unruly as if he'd forgotten to brush. Quite like…like Potter. Draco's eyes widened in sudden realization and he quickly turned his gaze back to the party. Merlin! He'd just been checking out Potter! Harry Potter! Maybe if he kept pretending to ignore him, the man would go away.

No such luck. "Malfoy?" Draco grimaced as he straightened. He'd wanted to avoid this meeting, possibly for the next fifty years. He hadn't seen Potter for the past three years and had hoped to continue that happy condition. He turned to face Potter, forcing his gaze to meet the other man's. Nodding stiffly, he replied "Potter." For an uncomfortable moment the two just stared at each other, then Draco watched as Potter rolled his eyes and turned back to watch the party below.

"This is stupid. We're not kids anymore and I don't have the time to be having fights with you. Alright?" Potter said it all quietly and didn't even look at him. Draco clenched his teeth. How annoying. He took a few steps closer to Potter and couldn't help but smirk when the shorter man turned to face him again, brow lifted with a silent question. Draco happily ignored it and said "Alright, deal." He stuck out his hand to seal the agreement and almost flinched at the feeling of déjà vu. He couldn't take his hand back now though. He'd look stupid.

A warm hand enveloped his and Draco stared down in shock at the sight of Potter's hand gripping his own pale hand. A slow smile spread across his face and he looked up, meeting Potter's gaze. He was smiling too. He looked good when he smiled…Draco stopped himself from focusing on that as the two men leaned back against the railing.

Harry once more watched the party below. He was still smiling. Who knew he'd be standing here chatting comfortably with the man who had once been his rival? Who knew he'd enjoy it so much? They'd been talking for thirty minutes. Draco told Harry all about his designing business and Harry told Draco about his recent successes in court. Officially, Harry was an Auror, but had recently been arguing cases for werewolf rights activists and decided he liked it. From the look on the blond's face, he could tell that lawyer was one thing Malfoy never thought Harry Potter could be.

Looking down, he could see that Parkinson was still talking to Seamus though Remus had long since moved to another, older group. "Pansy Parkinson grew up pretty, eh, Malfoy?" He slanted a glance toward the older man. "How come you two called off your engagement?" From the corner of his eye, Harry could see Malfoy's grimace.

"Well, Potter, tell me how'd you feel if you were arranged to be married to your best friend." Malfoy glared at him but Harry didn't notice. He was too busy with a mental image of Ron in a bride's gown. He started laughing and couldn't stop. Every time he seemed to calm down a bit he caught a glimpse of Malfoy's face and he'd started up again.

An elbow digging into his side stopped his hysterics and he faced Malfoy with tears of laughter in his eyes. "What?" Malfoy looked panicky, his pale gaze flicking from Harry to some point behind him and back. "What, Malfoy?" The blond stared at him. "Quick, Potter. Kiss me!" Harry stared back in shock. "E…excuse me?"

**A/N: Nnn…Sorry! This chapter's getting to long for me! Anyways here's thanks for reviews on chapter 2: firefly, CallieM, SpeechlessQuestion and MiraiYume. Thanks and see ya next chapter! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Okay, here it is and sorry for the wait!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and be sure to times this by two because I forgot it in the last chapter…heh.**

**Matchmakers, Inc.**: Seamus' Plan- Part 1

Seamus Finnigan stood straight and met the dark glare head on. Facing down an angry Pansy Parkinson had not been on his to-do list, though he suspected it should have been. Her reaction was completely normal considering his company. He flicked his eyes once more toward Blaise Zabini, who was eyeing the scene with interest as well as trepidation. Smart man. The Irishman turned his eyes back to stare down the woman. He had to get her on his side.

"Trust me," he said, imitating the logical voice he'd heard Dean use many times. It felt strange. He didn't usually speak logically. "It'll work. And when it does, you have to help me." He didn't flinch as Parkinson's scowl darkened. "You don't understand! You don't know what this… this schmuck did to him!" she cried, pointing accusingly at Zabini. The man had the good grace to look ashamed and Seamus' brow rose at the startled look on Parkinson's face. Interesting. He grinned. "I know what happened. That's why I know I'm right. Now, are you in or out?"

The woman looked at him, appearing to be sizing him up and analyzing his intentions. Seamus grinned wider. He hoped Malfoy knew what a good friend he had. "Fine," Parkinson said grudgingly. "But if you're wrong about this, you have to deal with me. Understood?" Seamus waved a hand carelessly. "Yeah, yeah, I get it already. And when I'm right, you help me get them together. Deal?" He stuck out his hand and waited while Parkinson fought her own common sense before taking it, sealing the bargain.

"Good," Seamus said happily. "Now let's get going!" He looked over at the other man. "Don't forget your part, Zabini." The taller man nodded stiffly, apparently still wary of Parkinson. "Don't forget your end of the deal, Finnigan," he returned. A frustrated groan came form the only woman in their small group. "This is so not going to work. I know Draco. He won't go for it!" The former Gryffindor shushed them both. "Look happy when we start up the stairs. That way, we can throw Malfoy off balance." Parkinson shook her head but complied, and the three started up the stairs, Seamus grinning in anticipation and the other two with fake smiles plastered on their faces.

Draco glared down at the man before him, bent almost double with laughter. He didn't see what was so funny about marrying your best friend. Looking up at the stairs, the blond realized the solitude the two had enjoyed was about to be intruded upon by three figures trooping up the staircase. Pansy he didn't mind, Finnigan he could tolerate, but that third person. Draco started to panic. Why would Pansy willingly bring Blaise up here?

His eye darted quickly around the area, searching frantically for somewhere to hide. Damn! Nowhere! He elbowed Potter's side. How could he think with all that bloody laughter? Potter looked up at him and Draco tried not to think of how cute he was with his cheeks flushed and laughter still shining in his green eyes. "What?" Potter asked, but Draco ignored him. Blaise is coming, Blaise is coming, Blaise is… "What, Malfoy?"

Draco stared at Potter and an idea came to mind. Glancing once more at the three who were steadily drawing closer, Draco looked the shorter man in the eye. "Quick, Potter. Kiss me!" he said urgently and was more than a little frustrated when Potter just stared back. "E…excuse me?" If Blaise hadn't been so near, Draco would have laughed at the way Potter's voice cracked.

Draco stepped closer, crowding the shorter man against the railing of the loft and leaned down a bit to whisper "Hurry, Potter! Kiss me before he gets here!" Draco growled at the confused look on Potter's face. There was no help for it. He reached around and pinched the shorter man's bottom. Hard. Potter yelped and jumped forward, throwing his arms around Draco's neck to keep his balance. The blond took advantage of their position and pressed his lips against Potter's ignoring the gasps that came from the three people who had just arrived.

Harry froze. He was… Malfoy was… a guy was kissing him! He couldn't move. Never before had shock frozen him in place, but now it had. Malfoy was kissing him. Just a simple kiss, a touch of lips, really and it wasn't even half bad, but that wasn't the point! A guy was kissing him and before that had even pinched his butt. His butt! It still hurt. Harry heard the gasps and scrunched his eyes shut. God, he was kissing Draco Malfoy! And right in front of people! The prat had better have a good reason for doing this or else he would pay!

Seamus stifled a giggle and glanced at a stunned Parkinson. She lost! His instincts had never been wrong before and it looked like they wouldn't fail him now. The Irishman grinned. He knew bringing Zabini to see Malfoy would make him do something drastic, and thank Dean for all the juicy gossip about their past. Now the woman had no choice but to help him set the two up. She'd never welsh on a bet. He looked over at Zabini. Though his skin was naturally dark, Seamus could tell the taller man was blushing. He winked and jerked his head toward the stairs. Zabini nodded and hurried away. Anyone watching would've had the impression that he'd been angered by the sight of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy kissing, which was exactly what the Irishman needed Malfoy to think.

Seamus turned back to watch the two men. They really did look good together. Coloring, height, body types even, they complimented one another. Each looked good alone, but even better together. He grinned and clapped his hands, clenching them under his chin. "Awwwww!" he gushed. "You two look adorable!" He laughed as Malfoy immediately jumped away from Harry. "Aw! Look Pansy. He's blushing. Isn't that just so cute?" Seamus elbowed Parkinson's side mentally yelling at her to get her head in the game. She shook herself and nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, cute." Pansy sidled up next to Draco, leaning forward with her hands held behind he back. "So Draco, when did this happen, hmm?" Draco made a few inarticulate noises and Pansy smiled wider. Maybe she lost the bet, but it was worth it to see the great unflappable Draco Malfoy squirm like this. Even if she lost because he'd been caught kissing the one man she thought Draco would never go for. She examined Seamus out the corner of her eye, ignoring the sputtering still coming as the blond tried desperately to explain himself.

How did Finnigan know what Draco would do to get away from Blaise? She giggled, her previous anger all but forgotten, as she watched the sandy-haired Irishman try to grab his friend's attention. Potter seemed frozen in place. He hadn't moved since Draco jumped back and still stood against the railing, glasses askew and a shocked expression distorting his features. Finnigan was waving both hands and clapping, trying to get a reaction from the poor man but it seemed hopeless. Pansy bit back another giggle and turned to tease Draco some more.

Seamus sighed and clapped his hands one more time. He turned to face Malfoy and Parkinson, interrupting their conversation by saying "I think we may have lost Harry." The two former Slytherins turned to face him and he tried not to laugh at the still embarrassed look on Malfoy's face. "I swear it's like he's been hypnotized!" Seamus let out a sigh of mock frustration. "Honestly, Malfoy. Look what you did to the fellow!" He pointed at Harry and laughed as Malfoy launched into another round of unintelligible stuttering. Parkinson watched her friend, amusement evident in her face, then turned to examine Harry.

Seamus watched as the woman slowly walked around his friend. When she'd complete her circuit, she looked back at him and Malfoy, who had fallen into an embarrassed silence. "Maybe he has been hypnotized," she said seriously, then laughed together with Seamus. He hopped forward, pointing to himself and saying in a comically mysterious voice, "Ah, then I know what I must do!" Raising both hands in the muggle depiction of a magician, he whispered, "When I snap my fingers, you will awaken to yourself." He cleared his throat, ignored the sounds of muffled laughter from his 'audience', and began the countdown.

"One…two…three!" Seamus snapped his fingers and Malfoy and Parkinson began laughing in earnest. The Irishman looked at his friend and shook his head. He hadn't expected it to work but it would have been funny if it had. Shrugging and lifting his hands, he said "Aw, well, I tried." As he walked away from the frozen man, he began to hear sputtering, as though someone were trying to speak but couldn't quite form the words he needed. "Ge…Ma…th…id…oh…" He turned and saw a red-faced Harry pointing at Malfoy. Grinning, Seamus leaned against the railing to watch the show.

Harry kept trying to talk but couldn't make himself say the words. He shoved both hands into his hair and tried to ignore the confused looks on the faces of the two people in front of him as he tried to pull himself together. Well, Malfoy looked confused. Parkinson looked like she was about to laugh. "Auuuggghhh!" Why? Why did she, the only single female at the party, have to see Malfoy kissing him! "You!" Harry pointed again at Malfoy. "Are you gay?" he asked, sounding only slightly less shocked than he actually felt.

Harry could feel the silence fall around him like a blanket, muffling even the sounds of the on-going party below. Parkinson first looked at Malfoy, then Harry, then Malfoy again. He heard the sounds of giggling and turned to see Seamus. Great, so he'd seen it too. Fan-bloody-tastic. The man would never let him forget it. "I am NOT gay, Potter," Malfoy's smooth voice cut into his thought. Harry turned again to face the blond, ready to yell and scream and generally pitch a fit, but was stopped by Malfoy's next words. "I'm bisexual."

He froze. Really there was no other word for his reaction. His brain stopped working and Harry felt in that instant that he wouldn't have been able to say anything had his life depended on it. Seamus had burst into manic laughter at the announcement and Malfoy was still speaking. "Honestly, Potter, what totally straight man designs clothes for a living? Besides, liking only one sex or the other limits the field." Harry tore his eyes away from Malfoy when Parkinson added her own opinion to the conversation. "When you're bi, Potter, you never go home alone. Isn't that right, Draco?" With a little laugh, she walked past Harry and grabbed Seamus by the arm. "I'd better take Finnigan and see if I can't cure this hysteria problem of his." She dragged the laughing man away and down the stairs, leaving Harry alone with Malfoy.

Harry shook his head and tried to pull his mind into some semblance of normalcy. "You're…" he paused and took a breath. "Why didn't you tell me? When I asked about your engagement to Parkinson, why didn't you tell me then?" Malfoy's brow rose and the look he gave Harry clearly indicated that he was speaking to an imbecile. "Potter, we just barely agreed to a truce. I don't think sharing our sexual orientations was high on the list of things to discuss." He looked away and mumbled something that sounded like "Probably only number thirty." Harry frowned and ignored it. "So your kissing me was high on the list of things to do right after calling peace?"

Malfoy blushed and shook his head, saying "Never mind." Harry watched a more cautious expression form on the taller man's face and couldn't help but gulp when Malfoy looked straight into his eyes. It was at times like this that he wished he were only a foot taller because looking up into that was more than a little intimidating. "If I had said something Potter, would it have mattered?" Harry started. It seemed as though the answer really mattered to the former Slytherin, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why it should. So he thought for a minute.

Draco force himself not to growl in frustration. Potter was friends with Seamus, had been a friend to Dean. Why would it matter that he, Draco Malfoy, should prefer not to limit himself to the company of one sex when those two had been gay all the way? He didn't know why the answer actually mattered, only knew that it did. Perhaps he just did not want this tentative… whatever they had to be over before he got the chance to discover more about the dark-haired man standing before him. The same man who actually appeared to be considering his question.

When Potter looked up and met his gaze once more, Draco almost took a step back. Who knew sincerity could shine so bright from a person's eyes? "I don't think it would have matter so much as it would have been nice to know, Malfoy. Now I just feel stupid for asking you about your and Parkinson's engagement." Potter shrugged and said, "Besides, how could it matter after Dean and Seamus?" Draco rolled his eyes. He'd called that one, all right.

Potter stepped up and glared at Draco, who once again resisted the urge to back up. Now you tell me," the brunet ground out. "Why the bloody hell did you kiss me? And in plain sight where everyone could see?" He waved a hand in the direction on the party below, still going strong and apparently unaware of the drama unfolding above. "Where people did see," Potter added, "and this had better be good." The shorter man crossed his arms over his chest and glared up at Draco.

The blond would have smirked at that but didn't for fear of making the other man even more angry. If there was one thing he knew, it was not to make short people angry. He did smile inwardly as he realized what Potter had said. So it didn't matter so much that he was a guy, only that people could have seen them. It was heartening. At least he knew he wasn't about to be hexed from here to next week.

**A/N: Alright. Once more this has gotten too long for my tastes, so I'll leave you all here for now. Let me know what you thought, okay, because I love reviews! And here's thanks to everyone who reviewed last time: jka1 MiraiYume, Catstaff, zuko'sfirebendingirl, ArAp, Azamystic, SpeechlessQuestion, AngelikRebel, CallieM, sodapop88, Speed Reader, fourth-face-of-the-goddess, lillyandjames4eva, Miss Brownie, and MyHiddenStory. Whew! Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay! I'm back and sorry for the wait. But well, here it is! Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter, but isn't J.K.Rowling lucky?**

**Matchmaker, Inc.:** Seamus' plan Part 2

By: Kaoru2.50 (I forget to do this part!)

"Whaaaaat!" Draco cringed as the noise echoed through his workroom and grimaced as Pansy jerked the half-finished sample from his hands. "Are you serious? You told him?" She shook her head fiercely. "But you've never told anyone! Well, except me..." Draco sighed and dropped his needle on the table. He could be grateful that he hadn't been using the sewing machine when Pansy took the shirt. "He asked, Pansy. I mean, I did force him to kiss me to get away from the man. What else was I supposed to do?" He looked up, meeting his friend's gaze and silently begging for an answer.

Pansy's lips tightened and Draco could tell she was thinking. He waited patiently and hoped for the advice she always seemed to have at such a moment as this. Turning, the dark-hairedwoman stormed across the room and flopped gracefully on the sofa. "I don't know." Draco sighed again and turned away. He reached across the desk and pulled some design sketches he'd been intending to modify toward him. He had already made several changes when he felt Pansy's hand on his shoulder. "Hey. Are you going to be okay?"

Draco nodded. "Umm, yeah. I'll be fine. He...he needed to know." Another hand crossed his view and turned the blond to face its owner. "Are you sure? Maybe you just...needed to tell someone." Draco was quiet. It was difficult to think. "Pansy, I don't know why I told him...He just... when he asked me it seemed like a good idea at a time." She nodded and knelt down before him to meet his eyes. "Draco, maybe he can help you."

The blond's head snapped up. "What! Help me? I don't need help. I'm fine! Now, hand me that shirt you took. I need to finish that to make sure it turns out right." He turned away. Pansy nodded and gave her friend the shirt. Once he got like this, there was no talking to Draco Malfoy. She sighed and walked to the door. For a moment she turned around, watching as Draco bent closely over his work. For now, she could pretend she hadn't seen the tears that had welled up in his eyes. She left the room, closing the door softly, then started down the hall, determination ringing from every click of her high heels against the tiled floor. She needed to talk to Seamus Finnigan.

Harry listened as the sound of the doorbell rang out through the house and smiled slightly at the voice calling out "Just a minute!" A few moments later, Hermione Granger opened the door pushing her bushy hair from her eyes. A happy smile grew on her face as she recognized her visitor. "Harry!" she cried pulling him into a hug. "Hermione," came a teasing voice from down the hall. "You're not flirting with my best mate, are you?" Harry let his friend pull him through the door and laughed with her at Ron Weasley's antics.

"Of course not, Ronald," Hermione said as she walked to him, bending down to plant a small kiss on his cheek. "I'll leave you boys to your talk. I've got a cake in the oven," she said smiling as she left the room. Harry looked down at his friend. It still felt awkward. If he had not been standing in front of the man, he never would have believed that his friend, who had always been the tallest in their year, was confined to a wheelchair. "How...uh, how are you feeling, mate?" he asked hesitantly. Ron turned his chair and wheeled himself into the living room.

"I'm wishing more and more every day that that St. Mungo's nurse had showed up earlier. Other than that, as well as a guy can be, I guess," Ron said softly. "Hermione's been good about it though." The red head smiled up at his friend and motioned him to sit on the sofa. "She still thinks I might be able to walk one day. I figure if anyone can help me out of this chair, it'll be her." Harry smiled slightly. Ron cleared his throat and stared out the window. "How's Seamus handling everything? We haven't heard from him."

Harry was glad Ron seemed to be absorbed in watching out the window. It saved him from having to explain Seamus' behavior. "He's coping pretty well. He says he wants to get strong by himself, won't let me help him at all." He looked up to find sad blue eyes watching him carefully. "He's avoiding us, isn't he, Harry?" Then Ron held up a hand, stopping the protests the brunet had been about to give. "No, Harry, don't lie to me. Seamus doesn't want to talk to us. He blames me, doesn't he?"

Harry didn't know what to say. Somehow, 'I'm sorry' didn't quite seem to fit. He stood and walked over to his friend. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he drew Ron's attention away from his thoughts, meeting the gaze unwaveringly. "It's just going to take him some time, Ron. He won't let me help, but I'm still trying. He'll come around, Ron." The red head nodded. "I know. It's just, I ...I would sleep better knowing...if Seamus...if he forgives me. But I..." he trailed off, and turned his head away. Clearing his throat, he wheeled away from Harry. "I'm a little tired. See you later, mate."

Harry watched his friend make his way to the room Hermione had set up for him. They had planned on getting married, but after the accident, with Ron paralyzed from the waist down, the plans had gotten delayed. Ron had stayed with his parents for a while. When Hermione offered the spare room in her parent's house to him, he'd almost turned it down. She pointed out that his parents were less able to afford the caring of an invalid and he'd eventually accepted. Harry agreed it had been a harsh but necessary step. Mrs. Weasley couldn't look at her youngest son without bursting into tears, and Mr. Weasley's career had suffered for a time. Ron was doing better too; it was clear by the fact that he could now laugh some. It was better for him not to be surrounded by four rambunctious older brothers.

Sighing, Harry walked to the kitchen and watched Hermione at the counter. She seemed calm enough, lathering frosting on the fresh-baked chocolate cake, but Harry recognized the set of her shoulders. It was how she held herself when she was forcing herself not to cry. He sighed again, sliding into the dining room chair. Leaning back he rubbed his neck, hoping to soothe the tension that had settled between his shoulder blades. "I take it you heard our conversation," he stated quietly. For a moment, his friend said nothing, then she sniffed. "Yes, well, you know Harry. Curiosity killed the cat and all that rot. Serves me right for eavesdropping, I suppose."

Harry waited quietly while Hermione finished decorating the cake, covered it and slipped it into the refrigerator. Then she sat in the chair next to him, buried her head in her arms, and cried. Harry raised his hand awkwardly. All these years and he still didn't know how to handle an emotional female. He settled for rubbing her back with what he hoped were comforting motions. Slowly, she calmed down and sat upright. Sniffling softly, she gave a little laugh. "How silly. Every time we think we're doing okay and figure we can act normally during one of your visits, you come and we both just get weepy." Hermione laughed a little again. "I'm sorry about this, Harry. Really, we wouldn't know what to do if you didn't come see us every week."

Harry shook his head. "Maybe you two should get out of the house a bit more." Hermione met his gaze for a moment, then looked back down, watching her hands clench and unclench on the table. "The thing is," she whispered, "I think Ron's embarrassed to be seen in the wheelchair. He doesn't...he doesn't realize that there are plenty of people who have to stay in one." She stood and walked to the teapot pouring herself a cup and offering one to him, which he declined, before sitting back down and continuing. "I think...I think he's scared that someone he knows will see him and it makes him afraid to leave the house. I know he wants to. Lately, all he's done is stare out that window." She took a sip of her tea and grimaced slightly. The room was quiet as she added sugar to the tea, tasted it again and nodded, apparently satisfied at its flavor.

"But when I ask him if he'd like to go to the park or the store or somewhere, he just shakes his head and goes to hide in his room." Harry watched Hermione stir the tea slowly. "I don't know what to do anymore, Harry." The man nodded, remembering a time when his friend would study for hours on end rather than admit that she did not have all the answers. "I'll see what I can do, all right?" Hermione looked up with a tremulous smile. "Thanks, Harry. And the thing about Seamus? Don't worry. I'm sure he'll be back to his normal self eventually. I just hope its sooner rather than later. Ron beats himself up enough without his imagining what Seamus is feeling."

Harry patted her hand and said his good-byes. He let himself out of the house and walked slowly down the street. He knew his friends appreciated his visits but sometimes, like today, it seemed there was nothing he could do to make things a little easier. But he promised to help and, if nothing else, Harry Potter was a man of his word. Normally, if he needed to find someone, he'd ask Seamus. Groaning inwardly, Harry decided it was going to be an awkward conversation.

He found the empty lot down the street from the Granger house and, checking to make sure he was well-hidden behind a tree, Harry apparated to the alley behind his office building. Procrastination was a tactic best used for unsavory issues, such as this. Harry brushed his hands down his suit jacket and ran a hand self-consciously through his hair. He didn't really have any work to do but, at the very least, he could review old case files. He sighed and pushed open the back door. Striding through the marbled corridor, he met with what appeared to be a walking pile of rags.

He laughed when he recognized the muffled voice that called out "Excuse me!" from behind the mountain of clothing. "Malfoy! Is that you?" Harry reached out and removed the top half of the pile from the blond's arms. "Potter!" he cried in surprise. "What are you doing here?" Harry grinned and glanced down at his burden. "Helping you, apparently." He raised a brow and smiled at his one-time rival. "So, why aren't you using magic for this?"

Malfoy nodded his head as an indication to follow him. "I don't want to take a chance that the magic will interfere with the spells I add on later." The blond fell silent as he led the way up to the elevator. The silence lasted until they had reached Malfoy's fourth floor office and put down the clothes. The taller man turned, awkwardly facing Harry. Harry noticed the look of discomfort on his face and realized the reason. "I..."he started, trailing off into another silence. Throwing caution to the wind, Harry charged ahead. "I'd like your advice on something."

Malfoy met Harry's eyes for the first time. He almost smiled at the stunned look of surprise on his face. "You what? Um, I suppose I can try, but I don't know how much help I can be." He motioned a hand toward the sofa for Harry to sit, then drew the stool up to sit across from him. Harry sat, leaning his arms forward on his knees. "Well, really, I just need someone to talk to." Malfoy's brows rose. "Why don't you talk to Weasley or your other friends?"

Harry shook his head and then leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "It kind of involves all of them." It was quiet for a moment, then the blond said quietly, "I see." Harry looked at him and smiled. "I figured if you could tell me about Zabini," Malfoy flinched and looked away, "I could tell you about what happened." Malfoy met his gaze this time, clearly interested. "Well," Harry started, "Dean and Hermione were trying to get Ron used to the Muggle world. It was for their wedding. Hermione thought that if Ron was going to marry her, he should get acquainted with, well, Muggle objects. Dean was helping."

Harry paused and watched as Malfoy picked up a piece of cloth and compared it to a drawing pinned to the corkboard above his desk. Sitting again, the blond nodded for Harry to continue. "They decided to teach him how to drive. The first few times went well. Then one night, Ron lost control of the car. They slammed into a tree and Dean died on impact. Hermione got away with a minor concussion, but Ron was paralyzed from the waist down." Malfoy looked up, eyes wide. "How did that happen? They have magic for stuff like that." Harry shook his head. "The St. Mungo's nurse didn't arrive in time. They had already taken Ron to a Muggle hospital. He hasn't been able to walk or do anything and he's in a wheelchair. Seamus hasn't spoken to either of them since."

Harry sighed and leaned forward again, resting his head on his hands. "But Ron and Hermione...they're my friends. I want to help. I think Seamus could help me but... I mean, how do you start a conversation like that?" He started when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, Harry met the soft eyes of Malfoy. Then the blond stood and Harry watched as he rummaged around in a file cabinet near the window. As if answering Harry's unspoken question, Malfoy began speaking as he opened and searched through another drawer.

"A few years ago, Pansy's mom went on a trip to America and met the wizarding surgeon. He combined muggle and wizard techniques and...ouch!" Malfoy paused and drew a finger between his lips, sucking on a paper cut. He took it out and looked at it for a moment before returning to his search in another drawer. Harry stayed silent, holding his breath in hope. Did this mean...? "Anyway," the blond began again, "he operated on several people, wizard and muggle, then helped them through rehab. According to Pansy, he had a 70 success rate, but he's the only person I've heard of that could help a paralytic with otherwise no chance of walking again. Aha!"

Malfoy turned around, hand held aloft in triumph. "I knew I still had that number." He waved the file folder happily and crossed the room to stand in front of Harry. "Here. Try calling him. He's expensive, but it's worth it if Weasley could walk again, right?" Harry still sat silently, staring at the folder. He could help Ron. He looked up into Malfoy's eyes. "You do realize that you're actually helping Ron, right?" Malfoy shrugged uncaringly. "You helped me, Potter," he said simply. "If I can help you, I'd like to try."

Harry stood and took the folder from the taller man. He looked down at it for a moment then threw his arms around Malfoy, who stiffened in shock. "Thank you! Thanks so much! You don't know what this means to me, Malfoy." The brunet released Malfoy and backed away, clutching the file closely to his chest. "If you need anything, Malfoy, let me know. I mean, a little kiss is nothing compared to what you've done!" Harry almost ran to the door and stopped looking back before exiting, sending a huge grin at the blond. Then he hurried to his office. It didn't matter the cost, so long as Ron had a chance to walk again.

Draco stood still in his office. He knew he was blushing by the heat of his face. It felt good, being held by Potter. He turned and resumed his seat at his work table. His heart felt light and he realized his was smiling. Helping Potter had done that. Lifting the cloth sample and a pair on scissors, he began making the robe he'd completed designing, but soon stopped in favor of staring out the window. He had Potter on the mind and it seemed like it was going to be that way for a while. Not that it mattered much. There were worse things to dwell on. At least, Potter was cute.

Seamus sighed heavily, toweling his sandy hair dry. He'd been in the shower when he'd been hit by a wave of memories of Dean. He couldn't help it; he just sat down and let the running water wash his tears down the drain. Now he had a headache and puffy eyes to show for it. Dropping down on the sofa, he rolled his eyes when the doorbell rang. Of course. As soon as he sits. Standing slowly, he brushed a hand under his eye and walked to the door. Opening it revealed Pansy Parkinson standing impatiently in the hall, tapping the toe of her designer heels.

"You know," she said as she walked into his apartment, "it's dangerous to just open the door without checking to see who it is." Seamus shrugged as he let the door close. "I'm a wizard in a muggle neighborhood, Parkinson. What can they do to me?" He brushed past the woman and collapsed on the sofa again. "So what do you need?" Parkinson sat next to him, and smoothed a wrinkle from her skirt before she started. "I need to know exactly how you plan to get Draco and Potter together. I don't want Draco hurt again and it seems to me that Potter is straight."

Seamus lifted a hand, stopping the flow of words from the dark-haired woman. "Trust me. I mean, have I ever been wrong about something like this?" Parkinson slowly shook her head. "Now, to get them together, we don't have to do much. If we keep putting them in situations where they are together, eventually they'll fall for each other." Parkinson nodded. "But how do we do that?" Seamus grinned and said simply, "Blaise Zabini."

The former Slytherin stood and glared down at the Irishman. "Are you on crack or something? Once was bad enough! You're not the one who has to take care of Draco after he shows up. I can't keep..." Seamus jumped in quickly, saying "Hopefully, you won't have to." Parkinson raised a brow and resumed her seat. "What do you mean?" Seamus grinned widely. "Malfoy already turned to Harry once. My guess is he'll do it again." He stood and walked to the kitchen, pulling a menu from beneath a magnet on the refrigerator.

He walked back and handed the menu to Parkinson, who looked down at it before meeting Seamus' gaze quizzically. "What's this?" she asked slowly. "That," Seamus replied, "is the scene of step two. You get Malfoy to come to dinner with me and Zabini this Thursday. Make sure he knows Zabini will be there. That's crucial to the plan." Parkinson stood and Seamus walked her to the door. "Even with you coming along, I'll bet Malfoy will ask Harry to come. And Harry has such a hero complex that he won't turn him down."

Parkinson walked through the door, tucking the menu into her purse. "But how can you know that?" she asked. Seamus waved a hand in the air. "I just do. Don't forget. Thursday night, reservations are for 6:30." He shut the door as Parkinson walked away. Then he leaned against the door. Working with Dean was a lot easier than this. Of course, they'd never before tried to set Harry up. Seamus pushed himself off the door and sat back down on the sofa, leaning back and staring out the window. He smiled softly. Sometimes, sitting like this, he could almost feel Dean sitting next to him, arm around his shoulders, ready to lend his strength. Sometimes, he could forget that Dean wasn't coming back.

**A/N: Okay. I think this is long enough. Oh and I said Ron was surrounded by 4 instead of 5 brothers because Percy doesn't visit home anymore.So here's a nice list of all the reviewers for the last chapter: jka1, zuko'sfirebendengirl, SpeechlessQuestion, MyHiddenStory, CallieM, E.T.phonehome, yaeko, lillyandjames4eva, MiraiYume, and fifespice, who reviewed all four chapters in one go. Heh. Thanks again and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello all! Sorry this chapter took so long but here it is. Oh, and let me explain the timeline a little real quick. War finished a year after Harry's 7th year, but it's been three years since then. Blaise and Draco's relationship started in the middle of the war and ended with it. It's also the reason Draco disappeared for six months. Okay, any more and I might spoil it... But just to put you guys at ease, I haven't told you what Blaise did to Draco yet so don't worry about having missed it.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. Nope. All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling.**

**Matchmakers, Inc.: **A chance of rain

By: Kaoru2.50

Blaise Zabini thought himself to be a decent person, especially for one who had once been a member of Slytherin House of Hogwarts. He was polite to nearly everyone and, unlike most of the upper class, treated his house elves well. He used the money inherited from his mother, who would have proudly bore the title 'Black Widow' had she not mysteriously disappeared with her latest husband a year earlier, in the aid of many non-profit organizations of both muggle and wizarding origins. He had only one regret in his life and it tortured him night and day, sleeping or waking. Draco Malfoy. More accurately, what he had done to the man.

Helping Draco Malfoy and atoning for the wrong committed against his former love was the only reason Blaise currently found himself standing before Seamus Finnigan, agreeing to a small dinner party at 6:30 on Thursday. A dinner party to be attended by Draco, Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter, and Finnigan himself. Fabulous. He sighed even as he nodded stiffly to the Irishman. The things he did for Draco. Finnigan walked out of his office and Blaise turned to stare out the window, not really looking at anything.

Getting Draco to fall for another man was not exactly how Blaise had planned on renewing his association with the only person he'd ever loved, but maybe the nightmares would stop. Another two years of dreams filled with the stunned look of pain on Draco's pale face and he would go stark, raving mad. Blaise sighed again, the heavy sound filling the silence of the room for a moment, and dropped to sit in the swivel chair behind his desk. His dark eyes focused on and followed the movements of a lone brown bird pulling moss and bits of twig from the trees lining the street across from his building.

He was a Slytherin to the core despite his philanthropy, and he knew it. Just as he knew that all Slytherins were self-serving. Yes, he was mostly cooperating with Finnigan because it was Draco's happiness to be gained, but he had originally declined to help the former Gryffindor. It was the man's offer to make a match for Blaise that had forced his agreement. Now, Blaise wondered if it was worth the chance they were all taking.

It was a long shot, to say the least, to base a plan on the belief that Potter could fall in love with a male, especially a male he had once hated. That the male involved was Draco Malfoy made it near impossible for chances of success to be calculated. This Blaise knew for sure. His current passion happened to be computers and other forms of muggle electronics. He had plugged his information on the two men into the same computer program he used to predict which horse would win a race or which stock would allow for the greatest return on his investment. Truly a marvel in muggle technology, and it had never been wrong. It had also been calculating the success rate of Potter and Draco for the past week without yet coming to a conclusion. There were just so many variables to consider.

Blaise stood and pushed his chair beneath his desk. He never actually worked in his office, so grabbing a small stack of papers and tossing them carelessly into his briefcase, Blaise left the room and waved to his secretary on his way to the elevator. The computer games he bought recently were sitting next to his spare computer at home. They would be sufficient to entertain him for the next two days before he had to face dinner with his former school mates. As the elevator slowly descended to the first floor, Blaise sent a silent prayer to any listening gods. He'd need all the help he could get.

Seamus was happy. Maybe it was the challenge presented by Harry and Malfoy, but he hadn't been so happy since before the accident. To make his day so much better, he had even found the perfect match for Zabini. He sat now in an iron chair sipping hot cocoa outside a French style bistro and congratulating himself on his genius. How inspired was this? Blaise Zabini, who had so horribly betrayed his former lover, was meant for said lover's best friend. If Dean were here now, he'd be so proud. He'd also be a big help. Pansy Parkinson was a tough nut to crack.

Slowly, Seamus took another swig of the cocoa, enjoying how sophisticated he appeared to passers-by. They had no clue his cup contained hot chocolate instead of coffee or something else just as adult. Glancing at his watch, the Irishman cast a look down the sidewalk. It was a woman's prerogative to be late, but if Parkinson didn't show soon, he would give up on her. Even as he finished the thought, he could see the brunette striding toward him. Seamus was barely able to contain his impatience as she slid gracefully into the chair across from him. He tapped his foot and shifted a little in his seat as she summoned a waiter and carefully perused the menu before finally ordering a latte. It wasn't until after Parkinson's cup arrived and she slowly blew air across the top that his resolve broke.

"Well?" he asked, a touch of impatience coloring his tone. Parkinson raised a brow and took a small sip of her drink. Seamus groaned in frustration. "Come on!" he cried. "I just finished dealing with Zabini and all his silence. I need speech! Now tell me," he demanded, ignoring the sudden flash of anger in the woman's eyes. "Did you get Malfoy to come dinner or not?" It seemed she decided to annoy him in return for the Zabini crack, because she silently lifted her cup to her lips once more, sipping leisurely at the hot liquid.

Seamus rolled his eyes. No wonder he was gay. Women were too vindictive. "Fine," he sighed, then took a deep breath. "Oh Miss Parkinson!" he cried in the most admiring tone he could. "You are THE most fantastic woman! No one is more clever or beautiful than you!" The sandy-haired man tried not to laugh at the odd looks he received from the people walking past. Grinning broadly, he jumped up and, almost yelling, called out "Everyone! Come and see this wonderful woman!" He waved both hands toward a now red-faced Pansy Parkinson, who was desperately trying to shush the man. "Observe her stunning features and admire the intelligence fairly shining from her glorious, luxurious, dark tresses to the tips of her highly fashionable hee--Whoa!"

Seamus laughed as Parkinson withdrew her hand from the sleeve of his jacket. "Alright, alright!" she exclaimed. "That is quite enough." He laughed again, thinking the woman had sounded just like McGonagall for an instant. "Well, then?" he questioned, humor not quite hidden in his voice. A sly smile settled on Parkinson's lips. "Success," she stated simply. The Irishman couldn't control himself. He jumped up, punched his fists in the air, and cried out "AHH-HAA!" His companion glanced around quickly at the other customers and the waiters before shaking her head and taking another sip of her latte. Seamus returned to his seated position. "Everything is going according to plan! Tell me how you did it." Seamus leaned forward, determined to learn from one he had come to see as a master of manipulation. He didn't expect anything else from a former Slytherin.

Draco paced frantically around his office, ignoring the fluttering of papers drifting to the floor. How did she do it? It was one thing to get him to go to a party when he didn't know the guest list, but quite another to convince him to willingly attend a dinner at which he knew Blaise Zabini would be present. Stopping his pacing, the blond moved his gaze around the room, taking in the floor littered with designs of both paper and cloth. He needed to get out for a while. Grabbing his coat, Draco slammed out of the office.

He didn't realize where he'd gone until he sat on the wooden bench and glanced at his surroundings. He was at the park a few blocks from his office. He hadn't thought he'd gone so far but it did explain his breathlessness. Leaning his head against the back of the bench, Draco stared up at the sky. The weather was getting cooler and there were fewer birds flying about. Clouds nearly obscured the sun and from their darkness, Draco could tell that he should find cover and soon, but he stalled. It was peaceful here.

"Malfoy?" a familiar voice called out. Draco lifted his head in time to see a slightly sweaty Harry Potter drop to the bench. A small grin formed as he took in the red jogging suit trimmed in gold. Out of school for four years and Potter was still such a bloody Gryffindor. As if he could read the blond's thoughts, Potter grinned. "Yeah, I know. Shut up." Draco watched as the other man ran a hand through his hair, shaking out little droplets of sweat. He really was attractive. Why did all the cute ones have to be straight?

"You know, Potter," Draco said, tearing his gaze away from the brunet and returning it to the darkening sky, "we really should stop meeting like this." He could almost hear the smile in Potter's voice as the man replied, "Yeah we should, but its just so much fun, Malfoy." Then, true to British weather, the clouds opened up and dropped torrents of rain down on their heads. Draco stood to leave, Potter rising with him. "Well," he called over the noise of water hitting solid ground. "I saw that one coming. So now, I should be going." Potter shook his head, looking faintly like a wet dog.

"Come with me, Malfoy. I live just around the corner over there," he said, pointing. "You can stay until the rain stops." Draco hesitated but the decision was taken from him when Potter grabbed the edge of his jacket. "Hurry up, unless you know somewhere closer." Then, with Potter leading the way, the two ran through the rain.

Harry laughed as he jogged up the last few steps to his townhouse. As soon as he'd pointed out which was his, Malfoy decided to race him and had won. The blond now stood shaking rain from his hair and grinning broadly. Harry liked making Malfoy grin, though he couldn't explain why. His porch was almost non-existent and, once out of the deluge, neither man wanted to step back into it. So Harry stood pressed close up to the taller man in order to reach around him and unlock the door. It became increasingly difficult not to fumble the key. Standing so closely to Malfoy stirred up a strange feeling, not entirely unpleasant, in the pit of Harry's stomach and he fought to keep a blush from rising to his face.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, his voice sounding strange even to himself. "Give me a moment, I've almost got it." A shift in the wind sent the rain stinging across his already soaked back. Harry couldn't help but shiver and his green eyes flew up to Malfoy's face he felt an answering one from the blond. However, it was the slight bit of extra pressure pressing against his belly that gave him pause. Malfoy's face was raised as though he found something fascinating about the porch light but Harry could still see the blush. "Potter," came the strained voice. "Hurry and unlock the bloody door." When Harry remained still, Malfoy looked down to meet his gaze and said roughly, "Kindly remember that I'm bisexual and this is more than a little sensual to me. Stick the damn key in the lock before I get any ideas."

Harry's eyes widened and the blood rushed to his face. "T...this porch...It wasn't made for two people," he rambled nervously and almost jumped at the harsh laugh Malfoy let out. Finally, Harry unlocked the door and the two men made their way into the house. Harry stood a few feet away from the blond as he pointed the way to the first floor bathroom. "There're clean towels in there. Umm...don't mind the mess. I don't bring people here very often." Harry blushed harder when Malfoy raised one brow. Merlin, that came out wrong. Without another word, the former Gryffindor turned and ran up the stairs to the other bathroom, praying that he'd feel better in some dry clothes.

A half hour later, Harry was clean, dry and dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of torn jeans. Some habits died hard, and at least they weren't hand-me-downs. Cautiously, he peeked around the corner of the hall to the living room. Malfoy wasn't there and Harry wondered if the other man had left. Merlin, he should have thought this through a bit more, but Malfoy looked so...so... he didn't want to say depressing but it was the word that came to mind. So true Gryffindor that he was, Harry invited Malfoy to his house to dry off. He didn't expect to have an effect on the man's libido. He certainly hadn't expected to feel anything back, but he could recognize that he had.

Glancing once over his shoulder, Harry walked into his living room and dropped to the sofa with a heavy sigh. The last time he could remember acting this way was during his brief relationship with Ginny. They'd picked up again for a short time during the war, but she had still been in school and their time together had been rare and short. It had been she who had left him when, despite the rather adamant protests of her brothers she had decided to study abroad in America. She'd enjoyed it so much that she had stayed past graduation and was now working as the school nurse in a muggle high school south of Boston, the city in which Harry hoped to send Ron for treatment.

Harry was jolted out of his thoughts by the ringing of the telephone. Reaching over he checked the caller I.D., glad that he had decided to have it installed. Unexpected calls were annoying and as a war hero, he always received more than a few. He grinned as he read the name. Speak of the devil and then...well, think of Ginny and then she calls. "Hello, Red," Harry said into the receiver. "Hey, hero!" came the excited voice from the other end. "I got your message. You said you think you can help Ron? What's going on?" Happy to be talking with Ginny again, Harry told her all about the Boston surgeon and his work. Ten minutes later, Ginny had a new reason to be excited.

"So this guy, he's got a success rate that high? Where did you hear about him?" she questioned. Harry paused for a minute. "Actually," he said slowly, "Draco Malfoy told me about him." A long silence was heard from the other end. "Are you serious, Harry? Malfoy? The same one that's hated my entire family since your first year? That Malfoy?" Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back on the couch. "Ginny, don't be daft. Do you know any other Malfoys?" He paused for a moment. "Well, I mean, live ones."

Draco took a deep breath and looked at his reflection in the mirror. It had taken a little longer than he would have liked to dry his clothes but he wasn't careful with the spell, there would have been wrinkles in the cloth. Seeing Potter again after what had happened on the porch would be awkward enough without having to look bad while he was about it. Deciding that he was as neat as he could be short of visiting a salon, Draco opened the door and left the bathroom. As soon as he stepped into the hallway, he heard his name coming from beyond an arch that, he found upon closer inspection, opened up into a living room. For a moment, he couldn't see Potter, then the brunet sat up on the couch. He seemed to be arguing with whoever was on the other end of the phone. Draco stood quietly and listened.

"Look, Ginny, he's changed. Malfoy's not the same prat he was back in school." Potter was quiet as though listening then angrily replied to whatever had been said with "No, I haven't forgotten. But have you forgotten that without his help, we'd probably still be in the middle of a war over here? Or maybe you've been in America too long to remember." Draco's eyes widened. He'd never heard Potter speak to a friend like that and it made him warm inside to hear the former Gryffindor coming to his defense. Potter sighed and said more softly into the phone, "I'm sorry, Ginny. But you have to understand that Malfoy helped me when I had no one else to ask. He...he's helping your brother and all you seem to be able to do is insult him. Give Malfoy a chance. He's already proven that he can do good things. Trust that he can do more than help destroy the bad guys."

The silence dragged on for a while, with Draco holding his breath, then Potter nodded. "Alright. Thank you for understanding. I'll send Ron and Hermione to you as soon as I get the okay from the doctor. Bye, Red." Potter sighed as he hung up the phone and Draco walked up slowly behind the couch. "Well," came the shorter man's voice. "Did you hear enough?" The blond strode around the edge of the sofa and sat beside Potter. At least they weren't focused on the porch anymore. "I heard enough to know the weaselette doesn't exactly forgive me," he drawled. The two sat in silence for a time listening to the steady ticking of the clock above the fireplace. Draco leaned more heavily into the worn cushions of the couch and breathed in a scent that he identified with Potter. It was comforting and gave him a strange feeling of peace. "Thank you," Draco whispered softly.

Potter sent him a sideways grin, then frowned. "Oh, yeah. What were you doing in the park? You looked angry." Draco groaned as he remembered. The man had a way of always ruining the moment. He glared a little at the brunet who just shrugged slightly in question. The man really did have eyes the most lovely shade of green. "Well?" Potter asked again, but Draco didn't hear. An idea was forming and the thought brought a smile to his face. "Potter!" he exclaimed suddenly. The other man jumped, as much as a man could jump while sitting on a sofa, and cried out "What!" in a slightly panicked voice. Draco grabbed Potter's shoulders and, still grinning, said "Potter, you said you'd do anything, right? If I needed you, you'd help?" Slowly, Potter nodded. "Uhhh...yeah?" Draco smiled wider. "Come to dinner with me."

The two men sat frozen of the sofa, the blond gripping Harry tightly and Harry staring in shock up at the grey eyes of his former school rival. "Wha...what?" he stammered. Harry watched as Malfoy stood and began pacing about in front of the fireplace. "Finnigan invited Pansy and me to dinner with him and...and Blaise Zabini." An unexplainable anger rose up inside of Harry and he stood, feeling the flush that covered his cheeks. "And you just agreed? Just like that? Are you mad, Malfoy! I thought you hated the man!" Harry had been drawing steadily nearer to Malfoy as he yelled and stopped when he was standing just in front of the taller man, who's pacing had stopped as soon as Harry stood. "How could you just agree to that? Why didn't you just say no?"

Malfoy shook his head and said, "Potter, why..." He paused, choosing just to answer the question. "I don't know how it happened, but if you knew Pansy, you wouldn't have to even ask." Harry spun on his heel and returned to sit on the sofa. He didn't know why it made him so angry to think of Malfoy being anywhere near Zabini but it did. Taking deep breaths, Harry tried to calm down. Malfoy walked slowly forward and dropped to sit next to him. "I don't want to go with just Pansy. I think that because of... well, because of what happened at the party, Zabini may think that you and I... that we're..." he trailed off. Harry looked up, confused, urging Malfoy to continue. The blond quirked a brow and lifted a hand, pointing first at himself then at his companion. Shrugging slightly, as though to say there was no help for it, Malfoy hit his palms together with three sharp slaps. Then he waggled his brows meaningfully. Harry stared silently for a moment as realization slowly dawned.

"What!" he cried, standing abruptly. "You mean Zabini thinks that we're... that I'm your..." Harry couldn't make himself say the word. Malfoy nodded. "He may think that you and I are already ...er ...lovers," he stated quietly, avoiding Harry's gaze. Harry shook his head, blushing fiercely. "Why would he think that?" Harry watched with interest as a blush rose high on the blond's cheeks. "I don't... I don't normally kiss random people, alright?" he exclaimed, obviously embarrassed. Harry laughed a little and Malfoy glared at him. "So what? Neither do I. What's that got to do with anything?" Malfoy suddenly seemed to find the table lamp extremely interesting as he answered. "Well, Blaise and I... we'd been dating for two months before we finally kissed and it was nothing as close as when we kissed at the party. Just a peck on the cheek, really."

Harry sat down quietly, trying not to laugh but eventually he could hold it in no longer. Malfoy glared for a while before he too started laughing. "It is a bit old-fashioned, I suppose." Harry shook his head a little. "No...no. It's actually kind of sweet." He sat back down next to Malfoy and tossed him a grin. "But if you tell anyone I said that," he continued, "I'll deny it with all the tenacity of the Gryffindor I am." Harry laughed when Malfoy just rolled his eyes and gave him a slight smile.

"So, Gryffindork," the blonde drawled, ignoring the tongue Harry stuck out at him, "will you come to dinner with me?" Harry looked away, pretending to think for a minute. "Let's see... the poor man needs rescuing so a hero is needed. I know!" he exclaimed, facing a confused Malfoy. "Let's call Ron! He's a hero too!" It was difficult to keep a straight face when all he wanted to do was laugh at the look of disgust distorting the pale face before him. "Although," he mused, "technically, you're a hero too, Malfoy, so you could rescue yourself. That would be a bit awkward though." A hand appeared in front of him and flicked the end of his nose. "Hey," he said, rubbing the tender spot.

Malfoy was standing and Harry could tell that angry did not adequately describe the taller man's feelings. "Look, Potter, I didn't ask you to come just so you could make fun of me." He turned sharply on his heel and headed for the hall. "I asked for your help," he called over his shoulder, "because you promised I would have it should I need it." Harry stood and followed Malfoy to the front door, almost catching him before the man turned and faced him. The brunet stopped mid-step to avoid running into him. He had thought Malfoy attractive before but Harry couldn't help catch his breath as he looked upon an angry one. Cheeks flushed, eyes flashing, and fists clenched, he was beautiful and Harry found it hard to remember that he was straight.

"If you won't help me then..." Draco's angry voice faded away. It was difficult to speak with someone's hand over your mouth. "Relax, Malfoy," Potter whispered, looking up into Draco's eyes. The look in the green orbs made him nervous enough that Draco had to force himself not to gulp. "I promised, didn't I?" He smiled as he removed his hand from Draco's mouth, leaving the blond to wonder how he ever thought Blaise Zabini to be the least bit appealing. "So, I'll be your hero and save you from your little dinner party." Draco could feel when Potter stepped back. The air around him seemed a little less warm.

Pointing behind himself at the door, Draco said "I'd better be going. I've got a few things I need to hem up." Potter nodded. "Yeah, and the rain's already stopped. So..." The former Slytherin started to edge toward the door, grabbing his jacket on the way. "Well, see you Thursday. I'll pick you up here at a quarter to six. Does that sound good?" Draco tried to hide his blush even as he said the words. It felt like he was making a date, which it definitely was NOT, thank you very much. "Er, yeah," came the unsteady reply. Malfoy looked up. Potter stood a bit farther away now, but with his head bent forward and that delicate blush high on his cheeks, Merlin, he just looked so damned cute!

Almost before he realized what he'd done, Draco found himself standing inches from the shorter man. There had to be something wrong with him, a spell or charm or something, because at that moment he could think of no logical reason not to kiss the man. So he held Potter's chin gently and softly brushed his lips over his former rival's mouth. Draco's nerves were singing and his stomach felt as though every little winged insect he'd seen in his life had decided to hold a get-together in there. Before pulling away, the blond whispered "Thanks for everything," against the shorter man's lips, relishing the warm feeling of Potter's lips beneath his own a moment longer. Then Draco headed to the door. He looked at Potter one last time, drinking in the slightly unfocused eyes and flushed face before leaving the townhouse and heading to his office. For some inexplicable reason, he felt inspired and there was paper enough there to satisfy the urge to draw new clothing designs.

Harry stood staring at the door and thinking. Rather, he was attempting to think. It was a trying task when he could barely hear his own thoughts above the rushing in his ears and the pounding of his heart. He knew that straight men didn't normally react this way when another man kissed them. Harry could remember decking Terry Boot when the man had tried to snog him at some party or other a few months after he defeated Voldemort, so he knew that he didn't normally react this way. Unless his memory was faulty, he had not reacted this way even when Malfoy had kissed him at the party the week previous and only one person could help him with this problem. Turning sharply, Harry walked quickly back to his living room and, starting a fire with his wand in one hand, he reached into the pot of Floo powder on the mantle with the other. Harry tossed a handful into the fire, which had barely turned green before the brunet stepped in, calling out "Seamus' apartment!"

**A/N: Alright, there it is and, again, I'm really sorry it took so long! Next chapter, I promise to tell you what happened with Blaise and Draco, so how about some reviews, hmm? For everyone who reviewed last time, here's my call out! Thanks to MyHiddenStory, zuko'sfirebendingirl, limonade, CallieM, Fitful Fantasy, fourth-face-of-the-goddess, watching-waiting-wishing, azamystic, Haunted Emerald Depths, fifespice, and MiraiYume. Thanks again everyone! **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Alright, as promised here it is. It's not a flashback, because no one in particular is remembering it, more like an explanation of events to further the story. Mostly because I let the only logical point in which to explain it pass without having done so. Maybe it's like a memory from a penseive. I'm rambling so I'll figure it out later.**

**Disclaimer: I'm not Rowling so the only thing that's mine is the plot. Though it draws on some stuff that happened in the books, but there you go...**

**Matchmakers, Inc.:**

By: Kaoru2.50

_"Pansy," Draco called, dashing through the crowd to catch his friend. "Draco," the woman said as she turned to hug him. "I was looking for you! You're late." Draco shrugged as the two hurried down the street, turning into a small cafe. "Sorry. I was helping Blaise set up his new toy. Those muggle things are so delicate; he won't even trust the house elves to handle them." Pansy rolled her eyes as she slung her jacket over the back of her chair. "I see, and he trusts you not to break his precious computer?" she asked snidely. Draco stuck out his tongue a little, then waited as the waitress collected their orders and produced their food before silently returning to the background. "Actually, Pansy, I needed to talk to you about Blaise." _

_Pansy's brows raised in surprise, even as she swallowed the bit of cheesecake she'd forked into her mouth. "About Blaise?" she asked, confused. "What about him? I thought you and he were doing fine." Draco nodded slowly. "Well, yes. But, Pansy, we're in the middle of a war. This is a dangerous time and we could be killed at any moment." Pansy nodded. "Yeah and?" she asked taking another bite. The blond stared disbelievingly at his friend. "That doesn't scare you at all?" he whispered. The woman shrugged. "We all have to die sometime, and frankly, I never thought we'd live this long after the whole Dumbledore incident." Draco paled. "But I don't want to die a virgin!" _

_Pansy started coughing, almost choking on her next bite of cake. "You what?" she gasped. "Draco Malfoy! Are you telling me you've been dating this man for eight months, living with him for four, and you still haven't had sex with him!" she cried, waving her fork in his direction. Draco shushed her frantically. "Pansy! We don't have time enough for you to be shouting out everything I'm trying to tell you! As it is, I'm due to meet Severus in a half hour, so just listen." Pansy nodded. "Well, get on with it," she encouraged, no longer interested in her half eaten cheesecake. "Urm, Its not me," Draco started. "I mean, I've tried to get him to bed but he just keeps saying that he wants it to be special. Pansy, what if something happens and I lose him? I'll live the rest of my life regretting that we never...never..." Draco blushed furiously when Pansy supplied "Had sex." He nodded miserably._

_"Oh, Merlin! Draco! What if he's straight!" Pansy suddenly cried out. Draco looked up, stunned. "But he...he said he..." Pansy reached out and shook him a little. "Calm down Draco. I'm only joking." She stood and pulled on her jacket. "Listen," she said as she fished around in her pocket for a few sickles, "Blaise probably has a good reason for waiting. Maybe he wants to make sure that its something you really want, and not because you're afraid to die a virgin." She pulled her hand out and counted the change before dropping the coins to the table. Then she glanced at her watch. "You may have a half hour until Severus, but I've got to meet McGonagall in ten minutes, so I'll see you later. And don't worry about Blaise," she called as she walked away. "It'll all work out." _

_Draco sighed, and paid the remainder of the bill without having touched his slice of blueberry pie. Then he shrugged on his jacket and rejoined the crowd outside the building. Muggles were lucky. They had no clue that just beyond their line of sight people were fighting and dying, all for them. Shaking his head, Draco strolled to a deserted alley and apparated to the meeting place he and his godfather had agreed upon. He'd be early, but he'd rather sit alone in the darkened rooms beneath Ollivander's deserted store than surrounded by the happily clueless crowds of people for the next 30 minutes._

_Later that night, having delivered his former professor's report to his superiors, Draco walked into the house he shared with Blaise and kicked the front door shut. Then he leaned against it, groaning and massaging his forehead. Having the Weasley twins as his bosses was no easy task. Every time he gave a report, they insisted he test their new joke project. He'd once returned home with pink hair and purple eyes. Blaise had panicked and flooed over to yell at the twins but had returned sporting flowing green locks. Draco smiled at the memory as he headed toward the mirror in the front hall and checked his face for any noticeable changes. That toffee hadn't seemed suspicious but with the twins, one never knew. Satisfied that he was still in normal condition, the blond walked down to the kitchen. It was late, but maybe the house elves saved a bit of dinner. _

_Draco made it halfway down the stairs before a firm pair of arms grabbed his waist and pulled him back against a strong chest. "Blaise," he laughed. "Let go! I'm hungry!" Blaise's lips trailed down his neck, coming to rest at his shoulder. "Yes," he whispered, the warm tendrils of his breath sending shivers down Draco's spine. "Me, too." Then he released Draco, only to grab his hand and pull him up the stairs to the room they shared. _

_Draco woke slowly the next morning, stretching leisurely beneath his silk coverlet. He rested against his pillows and smiled happily to himself. Finally! It happened. He could die today with no regrets in his life. Draco grimaced. Well, almost no regrets. He reached over to wake his lover, but paused. Lover. The word made him giddy. "C'mon, Blaise," Draco said. "It's time to…" Draco frowned as he tossed the cover back. He wasn't there. A sinking feeling hit Draco's stomach and he stood, grabbed a robe and tossed it on. He bit his lip at the small pangs of hurt tingling up his back, testimony to his active night. Draco was tying the sash when he heard banging sounds and voices from down the stairs. Making sure he was fully covered, the blond left his bedroom and went to the hall, leaning over the railing of the stairs. _

_Below, Pansy stood facing Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, who were both fidgeting nervously. "What's going on?" he called. When all three of his friends turned to face him, he knew something was wrong. "Um, Draco," Pansy said slowly, "we need to talk." Draco walked down the stairs, curiosity overriding the sick feeling that had settled heavily in his stomach. "What's the problem?" he asked coolly. Vin and Greg exchanged glances then both looked to Pansy. She reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Draco, do you know where Blaise is?" she asked. Draco shook his head and started to say something but Greg interrupted. "He's engaged!" the man cried out, then covered his mouth with one large hand. Pansy sent him a furious glare and Draco stared in shock. _

"_What?" he asked. "That's…that's just stupid." The blond shook his head as he backed up towards the stairs. "He wouldn't do that! We're in love! Just last night, he…" Draco blushed as he broke off the sentence. "Merlin, Draco!" Pansy moaned. "Don't tell me you slept with him! Don't tell me we're too late!" Draco blanched. Pansy wouldn't act like this without good reason. His gaze flew to Vin and Greg. "It's not true, is it?" he whispered. His friends nodded glumly and Draco turned to run up the stairs, ignoring their calls._

_Once in his room, Draco dressed in record time, wincing a little at his protesting muscles, but not daring to think of the one who gave him that pain. His friends were pounding on his door, calling to him, but Draco ignored them, instead rushing to the fireplace and grabbing a handful of the powder. There was only one person who would know if this were true. He tossed the powder in the fire and called out his destination. Blaise's mother would have the answer. Draco coughed a little as he exited the fireplace and brushed ashes from his cloak. "Draco?" He froze and slowly looked up. Blaise was sitting in a chair before the fire. A tall woman with long brown hair sat in his lap, pressing herself provocatively close to him. "Draco…it's not what it…" Blaise started. Draco shook his head, showing no expression on his face. "I'm sorry I interrupted," he said coldly. "I needed to speak with your mother." He glanced around the room, looking at anything but the man he loved with someone else. "She doesn't seem to be here. I'll take my leave of you now." _

_Draco bowed slightly, maintaining the cold politeness with which he had spoken and avoiding Blaise's eyes. Then he reached for the powder and once more entered the fire, returning to his room and landing unceremoniously on the floor before Pansy. She knelt and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as Vincent and Gregory watched on with sad eyes. "I'm so sorry, Draco," she whispered. "The guys found out last night and I wanted to make sure it was true before we said anything." Draco shook his head and sobbed into her shoulder. By the end of the day, no trace that he had ever lived there existed in the house. News spread through papers and by word of mouth that the war had been won. That Potter boy had done it again, defeating Voldemort truly, and celebrations sprung up everywhere across Europe. Few noticed that Draco Malfoy had disappeared without a trace. _

Draco sighed and waved the last of the models out of the room. Pansy stepped forward. "Well?" she asked, resting her hands on the edge of his desk. The blond shook his head as he leaned back in his office chair and looked around the room. It was almost unrecognizable without its usual clutter of sketchbooks, crumpled up balls of paper, and mountains of cloth samples. "I just don't see it. Those girls...they're not right for the show." He picked up a picture and scowled at the smiling face. "Pansy, every one of them was a blonde!" His friend grit her teeth and sank down into her seat. "Is there something wrong with blonde models now, Draco?" she asked with a sniff, eyeing Draco's own light hair. Pansy crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "The last set was too skinny and the group before that was too tall. What exactly are you looking for, Draco?"

Draco tossed the picture down on his desk, scattering the small pile. "I don't know, Pansy. You find the right models and I'll know. That was the deal when we started, remember?" Pansy frowned. "You weren't so picky back then. Did something happen?" she asked. Draco threw his hands up in frustration then laced his fingers together behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. "Yes… No… I don't know, Pansy!" He growled and met his friend's worried gaze. "I don't know. I just need to think, okay?" Pansy stood and pulled a folder from her Gucci bag. "Here. I figured that you wouldn't be satisfied with these girls so I took the initiative." She dropped the folder on his desk, not caring that a few of the pictures slid out from between the flaps. "Color headshots and full-body pics. You can pick the girls. Look, the show's next week. Get it in gear." she said harshly.

Draco smiled wanly. "Don't worry," he said softly. "It'll be ready. Have I let you down before?" The woman grinned. "Nope, and I know you won't this time either." She walked around the desk and bent down to kiss Draco's cheek. "I'm just worried about you, Draco. You'll need to be looking your best at dinner tomorrow." The blond tensed as Pansy straightened and walked away. "It's just dinner, Pansy. It doesn't mean anything," he exclaimed. Draco bit his lip. Just because he asked Potter to come and act as a buffer between him and Blaise at the dinner didn't mean he wanted to have a relationship with the guy. Even if he was the most attractive man...hell, person...he'd seen in a long while, it didn't make Potter any less straight, a few kisses excepted, of course. "...best for Blaise," Pansy finished. Draco stared up at his friend blankly. "I'm sorry. What was that?"

Pansy sighed, annoyed. "Pay attention, blondie. I don't much care for being ignored. I said, I know it doesn't mean anything. I just thought you would like to look your best for Blaise." She laughed at the revolted look Draco sent her. "Relax, Draco. I meant that you could show him that you were over him." Draco couldn't stop the blush crawling up his cheeks and he rolled his eyes when Pansy's entire face lit up. Why? Seventeen years of training to be the perfect little aristocrat and he couldn't hide the fact that he was occasionally embarrassed? If only his tutors could see him now.

Pansy pulled the office chair closer to the desk and sat on the edge. Draco eyed the eager way his friend stared at him and judged from her position almost on top of the desk that only a great miracle could save him now. "All right! Spill," Pansy demanded. Draco bit his lip again, stalling for time. "Spill what, Pansy?" he asked slowly, not quite looking the woman in the eyes. She pursed her lips, scrutinizing him, his demeanor, and his behavior. Her dark eyes widened in disbelief. "No way!" she exclaimed. Draco quirked a brow. "No way?" he mocked. "When the bloody hell did you start saying that? How proletarian of you." His friend waved a perfectly manicured hand, brushing off the jibe. "Oh, don't go all pure-blood on me. You've met someone, haven't you?"

Draco coughed back a gasp. Pansy knew entirely too much about him. "No! Of course not...technically," he trailed off. Pansy clapped her hands together. "Oh, Draco, that's fantastic! So," she sat back a little more in her seat, "let me guess. It's a man, right?" He blushed and Pansy nodded. "Oh, yeah. It's a man."An irritating clanging noise filled the room and Draco thanked any listening god for making cell phones. Pansy answered hers and the smile she'd been sporting disappeared. "What do you mean, the spell won't spread? It's a simple spell! A first year could do it!" She took the cell from her ear and pointed at Draco. "Don't think this means you're off the hook, hon. I'll be back to talk to you later." Then she stalked out the door, disdain written on her face and almost yelling into the phone.

Draco sighed in relief. So maybe it wasn't a great miracle. He'd settle for a great emergency if it got Pansy off-topic. She may have grown out of the pug-like face of her childhood, but she still reminded him of a dog at times. Pitt-bull seemed like an adequate comparison. Listlessly, Draco flipped open the folder and glanced at a few of the models. They were closer to what he needed, but he wasn't really in the mood to look right now. There were more important things to focus on. Like Potter and why he hadn't called, even to discuss the "little dinner party" as the other man had called it. The blond frowned and turned his chair to glare out the window. The last time he'd been so obsessed over someone, it had been Blaise. He didn't want to like anyone so much again.

Harry rolled his eyes as he dropped the last fork into Seamus' dish drainer. Washing dishes cleared his mind, probably the only good thing that came from his life with the Dursleys, and he felt a mind wipe had been in order. He'd arrived at his friend's apartment the night before just in time to catch a drunken Seamus as he tripped over a chair. A glance around the living room confirmed what his friend's breath told him. The man had been drinking, and heavily, for hours. "'Arry! S'you! You know what? Hmm, 'Arry?" Seamus exclaimed as Harry half-carried, half-walked him to his room. "Yoo's pre…preeettty, but Dean, he was bedda dan yoo." Harry nodded as he dropped his friend on the mattress. "I know, Seamus. Dean was better," he said quietly as he started to pull off Seamus' shoes.

"Ah weally miss him. 'E'll come back fer me, righ' 'Arry?" Seamus slurred. Harry didn't look up. "Sure, Seamus." The Irishman giggled when his shoe came off suddenly and Harry fell backwards to the floor. "But s'you know wot elshe?" Seamus beckoned Harry to him, leaning forward with a drunkenly serious expression. "Know wot elshe, 'Arry?" Harry finished unlacing the other shoe and pulled it off, glad it came off easier than the first one. "What's that, Seamus?" he asked dutifully. Seamus grinned. "M'gonna git Parsi… Parns...Parky wif Beeny." That said, the sandy haired man hiccoughed once and fell back against his pillows, asleep.

Harry stood slowly and stared down at his friend for a moment before leaving the room. He picked up a few of the bottles and swept most of the broken glass up. By the time he sat on the sofa, he'd figured out what Seamus had said and was still confused. "Parky" had to be Parkinson and "Beeny" had to be Zabini, but why would Seamus even want them to get together? Parkinson would crush him beneath her stilettos as soon as look at the man. He frowned, coming out of his thoughts as he looked around the trashed living room. He shouldn't have left Seamus to deal on his own. Obviously, despite his claims otherwise, his friend was not better.

He'd fallen asleep on the sofa and woken hours later with a crick in his neck and without the advice for which he'd come. He couldn't leave his friend alone, smashed as he was, so Harry called in a personal day at work. He could almost see the understanding nods that Kingsley Shacklebolt was sure to be giving. Then, with nothing else to do, Harry started cleaning, which left him standing in the small kitchen drying his hands on a shamrock-patterned cloth when Seamus stumbled in and headed straight for the fresh coffee Harry had brewed. "Afternoon, sunshine," Harry grinned. Seamus held up a hand and drank a gulp of the coffee from the cup he'd poured. It was a sign of how bad his hangover was that he didn't even make a face at the heat. The man walked unsteadily to his table and sat, nearly missing the chair. "Don't talk until I've finished this cup," he whispered, taking another sip and covering his eyes with his hands.

Harry obliged, dropping the rag on the counter and sliding into the chair across from his friend. As soon as Seamus downed the last bit and stood to get more coffee, Harry started. "What the hell kind of Irishman are you? I thought you could hold your liquor?" Seamus frowned as he returned to his seat and dropped his head down on the table next to his cup. "Not so loud. And I can hold my liquor. Just not after the eighth bottle of whiskey." Harry rolled his eyes. "Seamus, maybe you can't handle this on your own." The sandy head lifted slightly to meet his gaze. "If one more person suggests therapy, I swear I'll hex him so hard, his grandkids are gonna feel it," he threatened, voice still low. Harry nodded. It had been the same for him after the war. "Maybe you should consider it, is all I'm saying," he continued.

"Anyway," he said, changing the subject. "What's this about Parkinson and Zabini I heard you rambling about?" Seamus' head came fully off the table as the man looked Harry square in the eye. "What exactly did I say about them?" For a moment, the brunet said nothing, taken aback at the directness of the question. Normally, Seamus skated around an issue he didn't want to share rather than strike right to the point. "Well, nothing," Harry said carefully. "Just that you wanted to...er... 'git Parky wif Beeny,'" he finished, moving his fingers to indicate that he was using a quote direct from Seamus, who's face had slowly eased into a grin.

"Oh, is that all?" he asked, waving his hand breezily before once again dropping his head to the table. "Yeah, I think she'd be good for him. Whip him into shape and all that rot. Y'know, behind every good man is a better woman, or a really hot guy, like me," he rambled, voice muffled against the wood. Harry smiled and shook his head. Sometimes, Seamus could get a little too full of himself. "Uh, actually," he began thoughtfully, "I kind of need your advice. The thing is---" Harry stared at the hand in his face. Seamus hadn't lifted his head but Harry knew he was smiling when he said, "Hold on. I want to savor the moment the great Harry Potter needs my help for his relationship." He grimaced and pushed Seamus' hand away. "I am not in a relationship, Finnigan," he stressed. "Yeah?" Seamus asked. "So how come you suddenly remember your reason for being here after I bring it up, hmm?" The question would have seemed more sly if Seamus had bothered to sit upright for its delivery. As it was, Harry just turned his head away, uncomfortable with how predictable he seemed to be.

"Think what you like. Just listen." His hung-over friend nodded, propping his chin on his crossed arms in an attempt to look attentive. While Harry spoke, Seamus maintained an impassive expression, looking so spacey that he paused a few times, prompting the sandy-haired man to nod his encouragement before he continued. When he finished, Seamus sat quietly for a moment. "So, basically, what your telling me is you like Malfoy," he stated calmly. "What?" Harry exclaimed, standing abruptly. Seamus glowered at him as he lifted a hand to his still-aching head. "Sorry, but I just don't see how--" Harry started only to be stopped once again when Seamus held up a hand.

"First, he kisses you at the party," he said, lowering a finger. "You don't like it, but you don't not like it either, as is evidenced by the fact that he can still walk." Harry started to say something, but the words lodged in his throat as he watched Seamus point to and lower another finger, saying "Then you help carry the man's things to his office, which in itself is not important, given your hero complex--" "I don't have a hero complex," Harry interrupted, returning to his seat. Seamus continued, having paused only slightly. "Except that you stayed to talk with the man, for no reason." Harry avoided his friend's gaze, hoping Seamus couldn't discern the real reason he'd talked to Draco that day. "Then, you invited him into your house. Harry, I haven't even been there. That says something. You stood up to Ginny for him and ---" Harry grabbed Seamus' hands and forced them to the table, effectively ending the tirade.

"Alright, okay. Maybe I like him a little bit, but that's what I need you for, isn't it?" Seamus shrugged. "What exactly _do_ you need me for, Harry? You didn't tell me that. Sound like your relationship's going fine." Harry released his friend's hands and reached up to cradle his own head. Maybe hangovers were contagious. It was really starting to hurt. "Seamus, I know you know this but I'd just like to clarify. Malfoy is a man. I am a man." Seamus stared blankly. "Yeah, so? Didn't stop me and Dean. Didn't stop Malfoy and Zabini, or Crabbe and Goyle--" Harry choked, making a strange gurgling noise in the back of his throat. "Ew, okay. Too much information there. Besides, that's all well and dandy for all of you, but I'm straight!" he protested. Seamus nodded. "And as the saying goes, so's spaghetti until you heat it up."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Harry asked, frustrated. Seamus leaned his head against his fist, watching as Harry jumped up and began pacing the short length of the kitchen. "It means you can't help who you think is hot, male or female. He happens to be male and if you minded all that much, you wouldn't be here asking for advice." Harry paused and stared at the ceiling, trying to find the logic in that. "Furthermore," Seamus continued, "I'm betting you did a completely Potter thing and left him to simmer all alone without even giving him a call to reassure that you'll still be his knight in shining robes at dinner tomorrow, which will be a lot more fun with you there." Harry eyes widened and flew to his watch. It was already three, almost twenty-four hours since Malfoy had left his townhouse. "Damn," he cried and bolted from the room.

Seamus maintained his aloof therapist expression until he heard his friend call his good-byes from the other room and the sound of a sudden fire dying down. Then a goofy grin spread across his face. It should be a sin to be so talented and Harry didn't suspect a thing. If he'd had any clue he was being set up, no way would he have ran off like that to comfort the ferret. Still smiling, he let his head fall back down to his arms. Best of all, now he could suffer his hangover in peace. Reaching back, Seamus grabbed his wand from his back pocket and waved it in the direction of the windows, murmuring the spell. As the room darkened, he sent silent thanks to his former potions professor. Seamus may not have learned much in his class but Snape could close a window like no one's business. Thank goodness Dean paid occasional attention to the bugger.

**A/N: Okay! That's it for now! Tell me what you thought okay? I'm especially curious to know what you thought of the deal with Blaise. Anyway, here's my thanks:** **limonade, fifespice, SpeechlessQuestion, Emerald Cat, CallieM, Fuelled by Ramen, watching-waiting-wishing, Kermit, Fitful Fantasy, SaintVirgin87, fourth-face-of-the-goddess, lovedbytheangels, MiraiYume, and imakeeper, who didn't just ignore it.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello again and sorry for the wait! A really long wait, I know, but I've been really super busy. Here you go though, the next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Matchmakers, Inc.: Thursday Night**

**By: Kaoru2.50**

Harry groaned loudly in frustration and threw his jacket across the room. He didn't know who Murphy was, but he hated the man and his laws with a passion. Everything had been fine this morning. Then lunch came and the day had been on a downhill slide ever since, starting with the stale bread of his sandwich and ending with the exploding filing cabinet that had injured three witches and taken hours to clean. Now it was six and he'd just barely gotten home, covered in ashes from the floo network, which was still preferable to the nauseated feeling he got from apparating. He cursed when the doorbell rang and stalked over to pull it open with more force than he'd intended.

Standing on his almost-a-porch was Draco Malfoy, dressed in charcoal grey slacks and a black silk shirt with his jacket draped over his arm. "Tell me that's not what you're wearing to the restaurant," Malfoy asked with apparent calm. Harry let out a string of curses and headed back into the townhouse, leaving the door open for his blond guest, who stepped inside and shut it carefully. The former hero turned on his heel and glared at Malfoy. "You realize I have just had the worst day ever and now have to go deal with a possibly hung-over Irishman and two people I can't stand at some fancy restaurant while smelling like a chimney because I don't have time for a shower, don't you?" Malfoy lifted a brow and reached into his jacket pocket, retrieving his wand and muttering a spell that had the annoyed brunet looking, and smelling, freshly bathed. "Honestly, Potter. You do pick the strangest times to forget you're a wizard, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, well, that only takes care of half the problem, now doesn't it?" Harry asked turning again and stomping up the stairs to his room. Rolling his eyes, Malfoy followed. Harry made his way across the room to the closet, throwing open the door and waving the other man inside. "Find me something that won't make me look like Ron in fourth year while I go hunt down that headache potion Hermione made me." Malfoy simply shook his head as Harry left him alone in the room, cursing loudly as he walked through the house. By the time the former Gryffindor returned, the blond had emptied most of his closet and clothes were strewn about in haphazard piles. He groaned and collapsed on his bed, knocking a few piles to the floor.

Malfoy withdrew from the closet and threw up his hands. "This is hopeless! The only things you have are torn jeans and business suits!" He sat down next to Harry. "None of which are appropriate for dinner tonight," he continued. "Potter, you really need to go shopping." Harry sat quickly up, a retort ready on his lips, but it died away at the sight of his favorite pair of jeans floating in midair. "Malfoy," he started uncertainly, "what are you doing?" With a single word from the blond, Harry's jeans began a slow change from the button at the waist to the ragged hems of its legs. He stood and plucked a pair of black slacks, made of some soft material, from the air where his jeans had been.

"Wha...How did you…? Malfoy! What kind of spell is that?" he asked, fingering the dark material. Malfoy shrugged, and repeated the process, turning a hole-ridden T-shirt into a jade green dress shirt. Harry reached out and examined the shirt, still holding the slacks beneath his arm. "I'm a major part of the fashion world, Potter," said the other man. "It's my job to know these spells. Besides," he said, standing and heading for the door, "it was just a simple transfigurations spell. Now hurry up." He left the room and Harry stood staring at the door. A simple transfigurations spell? Yeah right. If that were true, no one would have need of Malfoy's business, or any other like it for that matter. He glanced at his wristwatch and cursed at the time. They were already late. Seamus was going to kill them.

Seamus tapped his foot impatiently, glancing first at Blaise Zabini standing as far to his left as the wall would let him, then at Pansy Parkinson standing somewhat closer on his right. Parkinson had dressed in what Seamus had come to recognize as a Malfoy original, an off-the-shoulder dress of smooth lines and chocolate brown silk that perfectly complimented her creamy complexion. The material clung gently to her curves and fell gracefully to mid-calf in a bell shape that swished slightly with her every move. He smiled when he saw her reach up to the necklace that dangled at her neck, lifting it to her lips and sliding the thin prism-shaped pendant between them. It was the most unsophisticated thing he'd seen the pureblood witch do and he stifled the giggle that rose up in his throat. A sound must have escaped though, because Parkinson's eyes shifted in his direction and she blushed as she let the pendant drop and crossed her arms across her chest.

Zabini, Seamus couldn't help but notice, had dressed in traditional black and white. Though he did look good in it, he somehow came off as being overdressed. He watched as the other man shifted uncomfortably and fingered his tie, pulling to it hang a bit more loosely around his neck. The Irishman measured the distance between the two former Slytherins to be approximately five feet seven inches, give or take. Too much in his opinion. A glance at his wristwatch showed that less than five minutes had passed since he'd last checked, which meant that if he was to keep his Irish temper, for which he was not well-known but did possess, in check, he needed something to make the time pass more quickly. He smiled mischievously.

A bench rested against the wall near Zabini. Seamus wondered why he hadn't made use of it before. He sighed heavily, exasperation practically dripping from the sound. "What's taking so long?" he cried, drawing the gazes of both his companions. "My feet hurt," he stated matter-of-factly, then grabbed Parkinson's arm and pulled her to sit with him on the bench, making sure he sat closest to the edge. Then he leaned forward, catching Zabini's eye. "It's rude to be still standing now that we are not," he said pointedly. Parkinson's outburst was drowned out by Zabini's stumbling protests. The two fell into silence and ended up glaring at each other. "Zabini," Seamus said, drawing the other man's attention, "sit." He sighed and did, sitting as close as possible to the edge. Parkinson scooted in Seamus' direction, crowding him and making the sandy-haired man roll his eyes. They were worse than a couple of kids.

The mahogany door that led to the outside of the posh restaurant was opened by the doorman, a clean-shaven man about their age dressed discreetly in black. He winked at Seamus, who blushed and looked away, meeting Parkinson's knowing gaze. The three had tried waiting outside for their late companions but had decided to come inside when Seamus had been unable to convince the doorman, who he refused to admit was cute, that he was not interested in the man's constant flirting. Parkinson looked over his shoulder and gasped. Curious, Seamus risked the doorman's bold stares and turned to see what had caused such a reaction. One look at the figure standing uncertainly at the entrance and the breath caught in Seamus' throat.

Seamus had been openly gay for ten years. He knew an attractive man when he saw one and could appreciate the beauty of a finely clothed one, though he always swore that no man was a match for Dean in looks. Tonight though, Harry Potter, clad in pants as black as his hair and a soft shirt the same brilliant green of his eyes, posed a striking figure that even Seamus could admit would have been a worthy challenge for Dean on one of his best nights. Seamus rose slowly from his seat, followed by his two bench mates, both of whom were too distracted to notice the lack of distance between them. "Harry," Seamus started breathlessly, "you should have been in Slytherin. Green is definitely your color." Harry blushed and gave him an ironic smile, which Seamus mentally told himself to ask about at a more convenient time, before moving away from the door to make room for the last member of their party. "I should hope there is more consideration given to the houses than whether or not its color brings out a student's eyes," Malfoy put in dryly as he stepped through the portal.

Draco was nervous, so much so that almost as soon as he and Potter had arrived at the fancy French restaurant Seamus had made reservations for, he had wanted to turn around and just go home. Potter had talked him out of it, though. His long-winded speech about regaining honor and facing fear had made little sense but Draco had agreed to enter the place, mostly to get away from the strange stares the observant doorman had sent their way. Actually standing before the man who had basically ripped his heart out stirred the butterflies in his stomach into a frenzy, but he acted as though it had no effect on him whatsoever, following the hostess calmly to their secluded table. To hide the shaking of his hands, Draco pulled out one of the five chairs and offered the seat to Potter, who sat with the grace Draco had only ever seen him use in the air. As the others arranged themselves into positions around the table, the blond claimed the chair next to Potter, a spot closest to the wall that allowed for an unimpeded view of the rest of the dining area. Blaise Zabini sat next to him with Pansy on his other side and Finnigan between her and Potter.

Despite his attempts to hide it, Draco couldn't keep the panic from his eyes, though his former boyfriend had not yet spoken to him. He kept his voice even, adding a comment here and there to the conversation running between Pansy and Finnigan, not really paying attention to the thread of it. Draco clenched his hands tightly in his lap, trying to ignore the heavy ball of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach, a feeling even more unpleasant than the butterflies. A warm hand settled over his two, soothing his nerves. Draco stared uncomprehendingly at it for a full minute before realization washed over him. He turned his grey gaze to Potter, who had joined in the conversation between their respective friends. The only indication that he knew he was holding the taller man's hands beneath the table was the light blush that colored his cheeks, slight enough to be attributed to the lighting of the room. Draco smiled softly and turned his concentration to the discussion. Unclenching his hands beneath the table, he lifted one to emphasize a point while holding tightly to Potter's hand with his other.

**A/N: I originally intended to make this longer but, well, I got tired of waiting to post it. So this is where it ends for now. Next chapter though, I promise to answer some of the questions you reviewers keep asking. Until then, thanks to unforgivable curse caster, fifespice, SpeechlessQuestion, Fitful Fantasy, Kermit, lemonade, LadyDragonWolfKnight, watching-waiting-wishing, MiraiYume, SaphireGoddess57, and azamystic for their reviews. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Tah-dah! Here you go! As promised, a chapter rife with answers! Okay, so it's only a few answers but there you go. Nyah! Hee...And it's longer than the last one too! A little...**

**Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. Well, except for a minor character. Or two. Yeah, two. Unless we're talking the waiter, as well...ummm. Yeah. Harry Potter and its characters are Rowling's!**

**Matchmakers, Inc.: Dinner**

**By: Kaoru2.50**

The walls were paneled with a smooth dark wood and hung with beautiful paintings in bold colors. The soft lighting glistened off the windowpanes in ripples, framed by the rich velvet of curtains held back by golden tassels. The glasses atop the clothed table sparkled and the silver fairly shone. Harry decided he was way beyond being out of his league in such an environment. A glance at Malfoy showed the calm face of a man completely within his element. It was comforting to know that, beneath the table, the taller man was clenching his hand tightly, a sure sign that Malfoy was as uncomfortable as Harry. The animosity Parkinson projected toward Zabini with every glare did little to ease the tension around the table. Only Seamus seemed oblivious to the strained atmosphere, rambling on in his usual fashion. Not knowing what else to do, and having only one hand with which to do it, Harry pulled a menu over and flipped it open. He stared at it for a full minute before he realized the entire thing was written in French. Fantastic. With the way his luck was running, the waiter would choose now of all times to show, before he could get the chance to ask Malfoy to translate.

Harry turned slightly and had just opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted. "May I take your orders, please?" Harry grit his teeth. Of course. If he'd still been in school, Trelawney would have been proud. Turning his eyes back to the menu, Harry tried to make some sense of it before his turn came to order. Malfoy, Parkinson, and even Zabini ordered their meals without a trace of accent that Harry could discern. Malfoy's foot kicking his shin lightly alerted him to the fact that the waiter had asked for his selection. Harry's mouth went dry. The three former Slytherins were looking at him expectantly, as though it never occurred to them that some people couldn't understand French. His last hope lay in Seamus but a glance at his Irish friend revealed a face as confused as his own. Seamus shrugged. The waiter cleared his throat impatiently. Harry felt the panic rising up, the need to not embarrass himself almost overwhelming. He caught the confused look that passed between Parkinson and Malfoy and blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "Chicken alfredo."

Seamus nodded. Apparently, it was an acceptable answer to him. A snort came from the other side of the table, though, and Harry blushed. Zabini's mouth was covered by his hand but Harry didn't need Legilimency to know the darker man was laughing. Parkinson made no attempt to hide her amusement at the situation, her gentle laughter at his expense deepening the flush that had spread across his face. The waiter frowned as he looked down his long nose at the group. Seamus leaned over. "It sounded good to me." Malfoy shifted closer to Harry. "Chicken alfredo is Italian, Potter," he said quietly. "Why didn't you tell anyone you couldn't read French?" His blush seemed a permanent addition to his features. Harry wanted to sink low in his chair but knew it would only make matters worse. Malfoy squeezed his hand gently and calmly answered for him. "Poulet roti, gratin daupinois and…white wine, Potter?" Harry nodded, still too uncomfortable to speak. It didn't help that every time Parkinson glanced in his direction, she launched into a new round of giggles.

The waiter turned to Seamus, who said simply "I'll have the same," before striding away. "Alright, then, Malfoy," Seamus grinned. "What did we order?" A look of disgust settled on his face. "We didn't get fish eggs or snails, did we?" Malfoy's brow rose and he lifted his water glass to his lips, taking a small sip before he answered. "Roast chicken and scalloped potatoes," he replied smoothly. Seamus nodded. "That's okay then, though I might have actually enjoyed frog's legs." Parkinson started to laugh again, shaking her head. "If I may ask, Finnigan," Zabini said, "why the bloody hell did you make reservations for a French restaurant if you can't even speak the language?" Harry glared at his friend. It was true. The other man could speak as much French as Harry could, which was limited to a total of three words. Seamus' grin faltered a bit before he answered. "Dean used to bring me here all the time. He spoke French fluently." Zabini had the grace to look away.

Parkinson's smile faded and she reached for her napkin, spreading the white cloth across her lap as she said, "Congratulations, Zabini. You have just managed to ruin the moment and hurt yet another innocent man." There could be no doubt what the dark haired woman had meant. Harry could feel Malfoy tense beside him. He slid his gaze to meet Seamus' eyes. These were the people he hoped to match up? His friend only smiled at him, before lifting and examining a fork. "Looks like they've gotten new silverware since the last time I came," he remarked idly. His four companions stared at him, speechless. The arrival of their orders saved them from having to respond. Harry wanted to laugh and was barely able to suppress the urge. What did someone say to such a random statement?

Harry lifted his fork left-handed and carefully brought a bit of the potato to his mouth. It hadn't quite reached his mouth when he heard someone answer Seamus' strange remark. "This silverware is nice though, isn't it, Finnigan?" Parkinson said, holding up the knife she'd been using to cut into her veal. "And so sharp. Perfect for cutting and slicing. Maybe even for stabbing someone in the back, wouldn't you say?" she asked innocently. Harry's potato fell to his plate as he stared at her in shock. Tremors of pain rippled up from his fingers as Malfoy gripped his hand more tightly, but Harry barely noticed. Zabini's face hardened into a frown but he showed no other sign that he even heard the jibe. Harry's eyes flew to Malfoy. The blond looked uncomfortable and chewed his chicken slowly, as though it were not the tender meat the hero knew it to be.

Desperate to change the topic of conversation to one less volatile, Harry asked the first question that came to mind. "How's work, Zabini?" The only thing that kept him from slapping his forehead at the stupidity of the question was Malfoy's death grip on his hand. Zabini sent him a strange look but answered anyway. "Work is going well, though we are having problems with several new employees." At this point, Parkinson jumped into the conversation. "Oh, I know exactly what you mean! New employees never pay any attention to the rules and traditions of a company." She sighed melodramatically and nodded sadly to Malfoy. "Like this new guy we hired. Fantastic at casting the spells but never gives a thought to his, shall we say, sleeping habits." Harry's eyes widened as he caught on to her meaning and he looked at Malfoy. A blush tinted his cheeks a pink that grew darker with each word though he continued to eat as though nothing were amiss.

"According to office rumor, the man has shagged every girl on the third floor and is well on his way to completing the fourth. With most of the girls being married or otherwise attached, you can just imagine the angry visitors we get in the main office. But then, infidelity is a habit that seems to be catching on lately. Don't you agree, Zabini?" Harry hurriedly gulped his wine, drinking half the glass at once. Zabini's frown had darkened with each shot Parkinson fired. Malfoy wasn't even pretending to eat anymore. He had instead wrapped both hands around Harry's smaller one beneath the table and was watching the exchange, white teeth chewing nervously on his lower lip. Harry tore his gaze away to look at Seamus. The Irishman appeared unconcerned that his would-be match was apparently headed for disaster. He chewed thoughtfully on his meat and smiled knowingly at Harry, who became more confused.

Pansy smiled to herself. Just because Zabini was helping Draco didn't mean she'd forgive him so easily and she'd make sure he knew it. When the dark man suddenly stood, glaring daggers at her, she hid her surprise. When he grabbed her wrist and excused the two of them from the rest of the group, however, Pansy realized she'd crossed some line. She refused to move, staying firmly in her chair. Draco's eyes were wide and it was clear he wanted to say something but seemed unable to form any words. Long fingers tightened around her wrist, pulling insistently. Zabini bent closer to whisper so only she could hear, "Get up and come with me before I do something to embarrass us both." Pansy's eyes narrowed in anger, but the man wasn't through yet. "I have no problem with dragging you from this room." He pulled on her wrist once more on her wrist, letting her know it was no empty threat. She slid her chair back and stood slowly, nodding to her companions and followed the angry man from the room.

Draco was panicking. "Finnigan!" he cried standing quickly. "You can't just let him take her!" He looked down at Potter. The brunet was pulling his hand insistently, forcing the former Slytherin to resume his seat. "Finnigan," he said more calmly, though not without a hint of his earlier panic, "tell me what's happening." Seamus grinned broadly and relaxed back on his chair, sipping the wine from the delicate glass. "A breakthrough," he replied, still smiling in a self-satisfied way. Draco turned, confused, to Potter. The other man seemed just as mystified and only shrugged. Apparently deciding to trust his long-time friend, Potter resumed eating. Not knowing what else to do, Draco followed suit, casting worried looks in the direction in which Pansy and Zabini had disappeared.

Pansy grew more nervous with each room they passed. Finally, Zabini opened a door and was satisfied with the room. Set aside for mothers to nurse their infants, the room was held several plush chairs and a comfortable looking settee. More importantly, it was empty of people. Zabini pulled her inside and shut the door behind them. Pansy pretended interest in a black and white photo of a smiling mother and child, until she heard the click of the door's lock. She whirled around only to find a very angry Zabini advancing upon her. Hiding her fear, she glared back. Who did he think he was, locking her in this room and threatening her like some kind of barbarian? Pansy started to speak, intent on asking just that, but her voice was drowned out by his. "You will not speak, only listen." Her eyes narrowed. "Sit," he demanded. Pansy stubbornly stood her ground. "I don't--" Zabini stalked closer, his long body towering over her own petite figure.

No one could call Pansy Parkinson stupid. She wasn't Granger-smart, but she had common sense and used it frequently. She was a woman who knew when to pick her battles, knew when it was time to do what was required of her. Sitting down on the nearest chair was what was required of her now and she did it with all haste, though not without grace. Zabini stood before her, glaring down with anger still flashing in his almond-shaped eyes. "Let's get one thing straight, Pansy Parkinson," he said between clenched teeth. "Never was it my intention to hurt Draco." Pansy snorted derisively. "Is that what you--" "Shut up!" Pansy shut up, blinking in surprise.

Blaise dragged a chair to sit directly in front of her. He settled into the cushions and began speaking once more in a measured tone. "I know what Draco thought happened. After so long, I finally make love to him, only to have him wake alone. He finds me, but in the arms of a woman." Pansy said nothing but her look spoke volumes. Blaise sighed feeling the anger drain away as quickly as it had taken over. He rubbed his hands down his face and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. "My family is an old one, and pure-blood, with everything that implies. You of all people should know that usually means an arranged marriage." He held up a hand, stopping the questions he knew were coming.

"I spent the better part of a year trying to convince my mother that a union between my family and that of my fiancée, Arina Carilo, would not be in our best interests. Finally, she consented and broke off the engagement. That was the day I finally allowed myself to be with Draco as I had wanted for so long." Blaise paused remembering the happiness he'd felt and sighed wistfully. Pansy was staring at him, still silent but not as furious. "The next morning, I received an urgent message from my mother. It seemed my former intended hadn't taken the news of our broken engagement well. I went to my mother's house to convince her that this was what was best. Almost as soon as I arrived, Arina...for lack of a better phrase, attacked me. Apparently, she thought she could change my mind by showing off her ...best assets." He was interrupted by stifled laughter that quickly died away. "That was when Draco arrived." Blaise fell silent.

"So," Pansy started slowly, "why didn't you ever tell this to Draco?" Blaise shook his head. "I tried, but he wouldn't listen. Then he disappeared for so long, I thought I would never get the chance to explain it all." Pansy frowned. "That girl is why you waited so long to sleep with Draco?" He nodded. "If there was no way to get out of the marriage, I didn't want to let Draco be hurt because of it." Pansy leaned back in her chair, running her fingertips over the soft cloth of its arm. "Why didn't you just tell Draco from the start?" There was a long pause and she looked up to meet Blaise's eyes. He spoke slowly, voice rough with the emotion he rarely shared. "I thought, if there was a chance, no matter how small, that I could be happy, I should take it. I thought Draco could bring me that happiness and I could give him happiness in return. I didn't want to lose that chance."

For long moment, the two former housemates stared at each other. "Where is she now?" Pansy asked quietly without breaking eye contact. "Madrid, Spain. She found someone older and richer to marry, and forgot me quickly. I haven't heard from her in two years and I don't expect or want to." Pansy leaned forward dropping her head into her hands. Blaise stood and walked to the door. He'd unlocked when he heard a quiet shuffling sound. He held his breath, feeling Pansy's presence a little ways behind him. "I'm sorry," she whispered so softly he thought he might have imagined it. Blaise said nothing, but he nodded. He opened the door and led a subdued Pansy down the hall. When he made to return to the dining area, Blaise was surprised to find Pansy's small hand on his sleeve. "I'm not very hungry anymore. I need to think." She paused, then asked, "Will you come walking with me?" Blaise hesitated, but nodded and followed her to the restaurant's entrance.

She stopped him one more time before they left. "Did Finnigan know about all this?" Confused, the former Slytherin nodded. "Of course. Dean Thomas told him. The man confronted me about it almost seven months after it happened." Pansy glared back into the restaurant, in the general direction of where they had left the other three men. "That bloody bastard!" she exclaimed. "He knew! He knew all along!" She stalked out of the building, followed by Blaise, who nodded a farewell to the over-friendly doorman, and muttering fiercely about sneaky Irishmen.

Seamus watched as Parkinson and Zabini paused at the entrance and continued on. He grinned. Nothing was more satisfying than the success of a well-executed plan. The waiter came and silently collected the empty plates littering the table. The sandy-haired man stood and looked around. Harry had paid for the bill and taken a nerve-racked Malfoy home nearly a half hour ago. The dining area was empty except for the busboys wiping down tables and stacking chairs atop the cleaned surfaces. Seamus was alone again. He sighed and headed for the door. It was times like this that made him wish for Dean the most. It was times like this that made him down eight bottles of straight whiskey. The cool night air rushed against his face and Seamus looked up in surprise. The door leading outside the restaurant was open, held wide by the same grinning doorman that had flirted with him earlier.

"Mind if I walk you home?" the man asked. Seamus shook his head and grinned. "Sure, why not," he replied. "Try to keep up, mate," he said as he walked past. "I've got heartache to get over and if you don't keep me distracted, I'll be waking up tomorrow with one hell of a hangover and an apartment full of empty bottles." The other man laughed and followed close behind. "I'm game," he answered. "The name's Brian Anders. Nice to have finally caught your eye." Seamus snorted. "Oh, and arrogant, too. Are you sure we're not related?" he asked jokingly. Brian smiled. "God, I hope not!"

**A/N: Hmmm. That last part didn't come out like I wanted it to. Just so you all know, nothing happens! Between Seamus and Brian, I mean. So don't get your hopes up or start ragging on me. Because NOTHING happens. Nothing, got it? Okay, as long as we're clear on that, here're my shout-outs. Thanks to** **fifespice, firefly 12,** **MorteDolce, azamystic, Emerald Cat, silverpen 18, To lo sai inc., Fuelled by Ramen, MiraiYume, and LadyDragonWolfKnight** **for the reviews! I like knowing that people read my story.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Wow! I've got over 10,000 hits on this! Hee. I found out right before I went to work and believe me you would not have wanted to be there! I was really hyper! And my buddies there got all excited too! I'm so glad people like this story! Thanks everyone! **

**Disclaimer: Same thing as usual! Harry Potter and his world aren't mine, and I'm not making any money off this anyway.**

**Matchmakers, Inc.: Discussions**

Pansy Parkinson snapped her fingers in front of her best friend's face for the third time in the past twenty minutes. "Draco Malfoy! If you don't start paying attention, I'm going to shave you bald!" she threatened. Draco flinched and shook his head, drawing himself out of his revere. Pansy was staring at him, posed with a hand on her hip and frowning angrily. "Did you say something about my hair?" he asked, reaching up to smooth a few loose strands behind his ear. Pansy rolled her eyes. "If you paid attention the first time, I wouldn't have to repeat myself so often." She collapsed with an exasperated sigh on one of the chairs across from Draco's desk.

"You realize it's been three days since that dinner, right?" she asked, still sounding very much annoyed. "Don't you think it's about time you stopped daydreaming?" Draco blushed. "I wasn't…Okay. Maybe I was, but just a little!" he protested. He leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm. "It's just…he was sweet, okay?" Pansy waved a hand at him. "I know, I know." A lovesick expression came over her face and she began to speak in a high-pitched voice, punctuating each phrase with a dramatic heartfelt sigh, in a clear, if exaggerated, imitation of him. "He held my hand, and he just looked so bloody cute sitting there and then he took me home and we talked about nothing all the way there and then he watched a sappy movie with me so I would feel better and stop worrying about my best friend who went MIA after being Pansy-napped by my furious ex-boyfriend and then made me cocoa in my own house and didn't go home until--"

Her tirade was interrupted by the crumpled paper that flew from Draco's hand to Pansy's face. "Hey!" the woman cried, rubbing gently at the spot. Draco sent her a mock-frown, the effect of which was somewhat diminished by the blush that still glowed on his face. "First off, I do not talk like that and you well know it. Second, I don't think _The Mummy_ quite qualifies as a sappy movie. And third," Draco paused and rolled his eyes. "Pansy, you left me a message when I got home. It's not MIA if you're not actually missing." His best friend stuck her tongue out at him, hiding the guilt she felt about lying in that message, and once more waved a hand airily. "Details, details. The point is you need to focus. The show is tomorrow!"

Draco nodded. "I know. I've picked all the clothes and the models that look best in them. So what's the problem?" Pansy groaned. She stood and leaned over the desk to grasp her friend by his shoulders. "Draco, we have to confirm the press list, the guest list, make sure the preparations are going as planned and about a million and one other things by seven tomorrow. This is no time to be relaxing!" The blond sighed and shrugged away from Pansy's hands. He stood, stretched and, picking up a jacket, headed for the door. "We'd better get busy then, Parkinson," he called over his shoulder.

Pansy smiled helplessly. She hadn't seen Draco so happy in a long time. The smile faded a bit when she thought of what happened that night. Walking around with Zabini hadn't been unpleasant. They hadn't said much, but it was comforting not to be alone with so much on her mind. The two had parted ways less than a block from her house, where Pansy called Draco and left a message saying she'd been feeling a tad queasy after her talk with Zabini. He'd asked her about it later, but she only supplied a vague answer to his inquiries and eventually the subject was dropped. She wanted very much to tell him what Zabini had revealed, but felt somehow that Draco's ignorance of the truth was important to Finnigan's plans. Besides, it wasn't her story to tell. Draco's head appeared back in the room. "Come on, Pansy. We don't have all bloody day, you know." Pansy lifted her brow. "This from the man who spent half of it daydreaming?" she returned as she followed him out the room, shutting the door behind her.

Harry couldn't help the wide grin that settled on his face as he hung up the phone in his living room. It had been a week since he called Boston and reached the office of Roy Hamilton, the American born wizard/surgeon. After a somewhat trying day at work, Harry returned home to find a message on his answering machine from the surgeon himself, asking him to call back and explain Ron's situation more thoroughly. Forgetting the time difference, Harry called back immediately, just barely catching Dr. Hamilton as he headed out for lunch. Harry told him about Ron's paralysis and the crash that caused it. When he asked if the doctor would consider taking Ron into his program, Harry got a reply that said basically "For Harry Potter? Anything!" Right now, it didn't matter that it was because Harry the Hero had called. In time, Ron was going to walk again. Harry stood, threw on his coat, and left the house. It was time for his weekly visit to Hermione's house. At least this time he'd have some good news.

Harry shook out his jacket and paused for a moment to settle his stomach. Apparating always did that to him, made him nauseous. It was an annoying way to travel but he hadn't wanted to wait the time it took to floo or ride a broom. The air was getting cooler, with just a touch of the bite that would come with winter. He crossed the street quickly and rang the bell. Hermione had obviously been expecting him and opened the door almost immediately. "Harry," she said happily and hugged him. "We've been waiting for you." The woman released him to grab his hand and pull him inside, shutting the door as she did so. Ron appeared at the end of the hall, smiling and lifting his hand in a careless wave. "Hey, mate!" he called. "Come on in! Hermione made a pumpkin pie." The red-head wheeled his chair closer, examining his friend for a moment before asking, "Harry, mate, what's with the grin? Get a new girlfriend or something?"

Harry shook his head, still smiling. "Let's go have a seat first. You'll want to be sitting when I tell you this!" Hermione, clearly restraining her curiosity led the way to the kitchen. Ron rolled his eyes, looked pointedly down at his chair and earned an apologetic smile from Harry, before the two followed. Seated, a slice of pie for each in front of the three once known as the Golden Trio, Harry decided to share his news. "There's a surgeon who may be able to help you, Ron." Hermione gasped, dropping her fork as she covered her mouth. Ron stared at his plate, chewing and swallowing calmly without meeting his friend's gaze, before placing the fork down next to his plate.

Harry took a breath and continued. "His name's Hamilton, and he practices in Boston. I've talked to him and he said he'd take you into his rehab program. Ron," Harry paused, unsure about his best friend's lack of response. "Ron, he has a 70 success rate." A broken sob came from Hermione and she swiped at the tears that fell slowly down her cheeks. Still not looking up, Ron asked quietly, "And how does he expect to help?" He glared up into Harry's surprised face. "Harry, how is he going to help? The muggles couldn't. That St. Mungo's nurse couldn't! What can this Hamilton guy do that they couldn't? Who asked you to interfere anyway?" He pulled back from the table with surprising swiftness and pushed himself away. He already disappeared down the hall when Harry heard the red-head's parting shot. "They only said yes because it was you." A door slammed.

Hermione sat quietly, still brushing the tears. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I'll go talk to him." Harry reached out, grabbing her arm and pulling back to the chair. "I'll go," he said simply and Hermione shivered at the anger underlying the words. "Harry," she started, "maybe you should—," but the man had already left her alone in the kitchen.

Harry stormed down the hall, pausing for only a moment before shoving his way into Ron's room, slamming the door loudly behind him. Ron glared at him and started to speak but Harry interrupted. "What's your problem? Why do you always have to blow your top every time someone tries to help?" Ron opened his mouth but closed it when Harry sliced a hand angrily through the air. "You want to know how he's going to help? Well, I don't know how, Ron! He's the specialist, not me. What he does though," Harry continued, striding across the room to Ron's dresser "is both. He uses magic and muggle ways to help people." Harry opened a drawer and began rifling through it. "What are you—," Ron started belligerently but was once more cut off. "You say it's none of my business? Not to interfere?" Harry spun around and fixed the other man in a heated glare. "You're my bloody best mate, and damn it, Ron! I'm making it my business!"

Harry pulled his hand out of the drawer and held up a picture that had been hidden from sight beneath piles of socks. The light from the ceiling fan created a glare across the glass, but Ron didn't need to see it to know what picture the wooden frame held. Harry leaned down and, using the arms of Ron's chair for support, brought his face close. He spoke quietly but the fury he had shown moments before echoed in every word. "You can be mad at Dean, at that nurse, at the world, Ron, and I won't stop you. But you can't just give up. You made a promise to someone and she's still waiting. Think about her for once instead of always feeling sorry for yourself." Harry straightened, dropped the picture in Ron's lap and stormed from the room.

Hermione stood frozen in the hall, hands covering her mouth and eyes wide. Harry gave a curt nod as he passed her, slowing only when he reached the door. Then he left, without so much as a glance backwards. She bit her lip nervously. Ron and Harry had fought many times over many things, but never about something so serious. She hadn't known how to handle those fights either and this one seemed infinitely more important. Walking quietly, she went into her fiancé's room and stood behind him. Ron was holding a picture, taken in their last year at Hogwarts, that showed the three of them after Gryffindor won the school's Quidditch cup. Harry's image alternated between smiling happily into the camera, waving the hand that gripped the Snitch, and eyeing his friends with a faint blush. Ron's image held the cup loosely in one hand. The other arm was wrapped around Hermione's waist, holding her close as they kissed. It had been their first kiss together. She watched as the images broke apart and laughed into the camera.

"Hermione," Ron's voice sounded husky, and she knew he was fighting to keep his tears away. "I…" He took a deep breath and lifted the picture from his lap, setting it on top of the dresser. He let his fingers trace the edge before running the hand through his hair. "So," he started again, "ever been to Boston?" Hermione smiled and brushed away yet another tear. "I'll just go and pack then." Ron turned slightly in his chair and smiled apologetically. "I've been a bit of a prat, haven't I?" Hermione nodded, then laughed at Ron's offended gasp. She leaned down and hugged him tightly. "Never ask questions you don't want the answer to, love." She smiled into Ron's shoulder, and closed her eyes as he awkwardly returned the embrace.

**A/N: Okay! That's all for now, because it seemed like a good place to end it. Sorry if it's a tad short, but them's the breaks, as my co-worker would say. Anyhow, here're my call-outs. Thanks to fifespice, Ann, azamystic, To lo sai, inc., MorteDolce, SaphireGoddess57, unforgiveable curse caster, silverpen18, LadyDragonWolfKnight, and MiraiYume for their great reviews! Thank you all so, so, so much! I'll make the next one a longer one, promise!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello all! Guess what? I got a promotion. Which is really good but it means I won't be able to update as often…Sorry! But I'll try to keep up!**

**Matchmakers, Inc.: **

Harry fell exhausted to the park bench a block from his townhouse. Sweat glistened from his forehead and he wiped it away with disgust. He had walked from Hermione's house, nearly 17 blocks away, hoping to burn off the anger that still swirled and arched through his chest. Ron had always been a bit moody but when had he become such a selfish arse? The former Gryffindor blew out another breath of anger, stirring the strands of dark hair that hung low across his brow. The wood of the bench creaked softly with the weight of another person. "You look as though you've had a rough day, Potter." Harry looked up for a moment, long enough to see Draco Malfoy's face in the waning light of evening, before returning his eyes to the ground beneath his black business shoes. He hadn't changed them when he left his house. "Want to compare, Scar-head? I'm willing to bet mine was worse."

Harry gave a short laugh at the old insult. Scar-head. It had been a long time since he'd heard that. He leaned back, lifting his arms and twining his fingers together behind his head. Wisps of clouds floated slowly, carelessly across the deepening blue of the sky. He watched in silence for a moment before shifting his gaze to Malfoy. The blond wasn't looking at him, choosing instead to watch as a mother bird settled her nestlings amongst the branches of a nearby tree.

"I told Ron about Dr. Hamilton," Harry said quietly. Malfoy seemed to freeze for a moment then slowly turned to face Harry, brows furrowed at the serious tone. He cleared his throat a bit, then asked, "And?" Harry sighed heavily. "He was…not receptive." Malfoy sat quietly, nodding, then he turned away. "I see." He sighed and leaned back, imitating Harry's position and eyeing the clouds floating above them. "Was it because of me?" Harry shook his head. "No. He didn't even know you had anything to do with it." Malfoy's brows rose in surprise. "Then why?"

Harry groaned and stood. He brushed a hand through his hair and started pacing. Malfoy watched in silence. "I don't know what it is! Its like all he feels is pity for himself and heaven forbid if anyone else pity him." He paused and held up both hands. "I don't pity Ron. I know he can get better if he just takes this chance," the brunet explained, and then Harry started pacing again, feeling Malfoy's eyes follow him with each step. "But he got mad when I told him about it all. Said the only reason Dr. Hamilton even agreed to see him was because it was me! And maybe that was why but you'd think he would just accept it already. It's always been that way." Harry sighed and fell back to the bench, head in hands.

"I know most people only see Ron as my best friend. I know they only see him _because_ he's my best friend. It bothered him back in school, but I didn't realize it still... I didn't realize it still mattered." Harry let his hands drop, resting his elbows on his thighs as he toed a pebble across the concrete of the sidewalk. The two men remained silent and Harry was glad that Malfoy didn't say anything. It was surprising how good the blond was at listening, considering how he'd been in school. He thought about this a bit longer then sighed. "I…I wasn't very…I snapped at him. He made me so angry that I… I told him he needed to think about what he was doing to Hermione."

The pebble fell between a crack in the pavement and Harry pushed at it a little before switching to another rock. "She's waiting for him. They were going to get married, did you know?" He didn't look at him but chuckled slightly when Malfoy said, "Big surprise, that." Harry said nothing in return and lifted his head to stare at the sky. The last bits of sunlight gleamed over the edges of the trees. A bird flew into his line of sight, dark against the pale of the clouds. Harry watched as it glided down to rest in the tree with the other birds. They were a family. He felt a small bit of envy at the picture they made, cuddled together against the breeze and the night. He and his friends were like that once, a family. He sighed again. "Yeah, but then the accident happened. It's been almost three months now, and Ron's acting like he's already given up all hope. He won't even take the chance!" Harry fell silent again, done speaking.

Malfoy nodded. "So basically, he was just being the proud little Gryffindor weasel he always has been." There was no anger in the words, Harry noticed, or malice. He looked up, meeting the gray eyes of his one-time rival. It was said as though it were a statement of fact, true beyond a shadow of doubt and brooking no disagreement, not as the insult Harry knew it would have been at Hogwarts. The hero gave a short laugh. "Yeah, I guess he was." He was tired of talking. It was annoying that he could 'save the world' and yet he couldn't manage his own problems. A change of subject was in order. "So, Malfoy, were you going to tell me what happened to you or should I take a guess?" Malfoy shook his head with a small grin. "You win. My day was nothing compared to your last few hours." Harry smiled, urging the older man to continue. "I just spent the past five hours with Pansy catching up on trivial things for the show tomorrow." Malfoy faced him, looking the part of a man subjected to follow the urges of an anal retentive female. In a word, terrorized. "Pansy Parkinson in a rush is not pleasant."

Harry's curiosity was peaked. "Show?" he asked. Malfoy nodded. "Yes. My company is having a fashion show tomorrow. It's time to start showing off all our winter designs." Malfoy frowned slightly, thinking. "I never told you about it?" Harry shook his head. "No, you didn't. That's fantastic, Malfoy. I didn't know you did shows, too." Malfoy shrugged uncaringly. "Well, it's only our third one but the press turnout is expected to be high." Harry smiled. The Malfoy he'd known in school would have been bragging about this a year in advance.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Malfoy, what are you doing out here anyway? Isn't your office several blocks away?" Night had fallen, the last bits of light having dropped beneath the trees in the distance, and the dim light from the lamppost a little ways down the street did little to help his vision. Still, Harry could see a blush on Malfoy's cheeks. A shrill beeping tune rang through the air, interrupting whatever the blond's answer would have been, and Harry stuck his hand into his jacket pocket. He stared at Ginny's name on the screen of his cell for a moment before sighing and sliding the phone back into place.

"Sorry, Malfoy," he said as he stood. "I have to go. Tell me how your thing goes tomorrow, okay?" Malfoy stood as well, brushing off his jacket. "Sure. Unless…" he paused, smiled and continued, "Would you like to come to the show tomorrow, Potter? It starts at seven." Harry looked away for a moment, not wanting to think of how cute the other man looked with a hopeful expression he'd never seen before on Malfoy's face, and not wanting to think of what it meant that he noticed such a thing. "Uh, well, I have work tomorrow so I may be a little late, but I'll try." Malfoy stood, a smile lighting up his features. "Great!" He told Harry the location and handed him a piece of paper from inside his jacket. "So you can get in backstage," he explained at Harry's questioning look. The insistent beeping rang once more from Harry's phone. The brunet rolled his eyes and sighed. "See you tomorrow, then, Malfoy," he called as he walked away. Malfoy returned his wave and started off in the other direction.

Draco Malfoy thanked God for cell phones. Again. There was something about the buggers that always made them ring at the most convenient of times. Explaining to Harry Potter that he had gone to the park again hoping to find the man there had risen to number two on his list of Top Ten Most Uncomfortable Moments. He smiled anyway. Potter would come to his show tomorrow. The thought made Draco's stomach give a pleasurable lurch. Even if he was the nicest guy on the planet, Potter wouldn't go so far out of his way, especially when he had no interest in fashion, if he didn't like Draco just a little. Looking around, he noted that the park was deserted. Strange for a muggle neighborhood, but it served his purpose quite well. Draco ducked quickly behind a tree, withdrew his wand and apparated from the sight, landing moments later at the front gate of Parkinson Manor. He couldn't wait to share his news with Pansy.

The driveway was a short walk, made shorter by his excitement and Draco reached the door before he realized he'd walked the distance. He didn't need to ring the doorbell; the door was open before he arrived, held wide by a grinning house elf. Draco nodded as he passed and headed for the sitting room, where he knew Pansy always relaxed after work. Laughter greeted him as he pushed open the door. "Pansy, guess wha..." Draco trailed off in shock. Pansy turned to look at him, surprise written across her face. She paled, blushed, then paled again. Draco shifted his eyes to her companion, the man who was sitting inches from his best friend and holding her hand. He'd been kissing her when he walked in.

His eyes were burning and his chest felt tight. It was difficult to breathe, and when his breath did return, it came in sharp gasps that hurt his lungs even more. Pansy stood. "Draco, I..." She bit her lip and glanced down at Blaise Zabini. "It's not what you think. We just--" Draco shook his head fiercely. "Don't...," his voice cracked. "Don't say anything. I can't... I..." Draco fell silent as Blaise rose to stand next to Pansy. He looked at the two of them carefully, at Pansy's ashamed expression and Blaise's calm face. Then he turned and walked from the room. The kitchen fire was always burning. He could take the floo network home. Once there, he closed the grate over the fireplace. The grate, when closed, prevented anyone from using the fires to floo into his house. He considered it the greatest invention to wizard kind.

Draco sat at his desk and let his head drop on his crossed arms. She betrayed him. His best friend, the one person he could count on, who had stayed beside him through thick and thin. He could remember the first time he'd met Pansy. His father and hers had just agreed to a marriage contract to be fulfilled when the children were 19. At eight years old, Draco thought she looked like a dog and had treated her as little more than a pet. She fought back when she turned ten, apparently bored with the game. They grew to be best friends. At school, though he was constantly followed by Vincent and Gregory, she was still his closest friend. There was a time, when he was fifteen, that he thought he could come to love her as his parents intended. She understood when he admired other girls. He never touched them, though. They weren't good enough for the heir of a family such as his.

At 16, Draco stopped changing in the locker rooms after Quidditch. He began having arousing dreams about the new Slytherin Keeper, a short younger teen with a wide grin, dark brown hair and startling blue eyes. It scared him, to feel that way about another boy. Pansy had stood by him, helping him to realize that it was okay to like guys, even recommended a few she admired herself. It was because of her that his father agreed to null the contract made so many years before. Then war had come. He hadn't wanted to spend life serving the Dark Lord and so decided instead to join Potter. She stood next to him, daring the Golden Boy and his friends to doubt him.

She was there for him when Blaise had betrayed him, helped him to escape, but they'd arrived at Malfoy Manor mid-attack. Lucius Malfoy had discovered his son to be a spy and accused Draco of that fact. Draco couldn't lie fast enough or convincingly enough. His father tried to kill him and Draco fought back, killing not only the man who'd sired him but also several of his companions with Pansy's aid. She'd saved his life and made sure he realized nothing else could have been done. Pansy helped him start Silver Snake Designs and make it turn into the successful company people knew even in the Americas. Now she sat in her living room, kissing the one man she was supposed to hate as much as he did. The tears streamed unchecked down his cheeks and fell to the papers scattered across the table, but Draco couldn't bring himself to wipe them away. It took too much effort. So he stayed, sobbing into the mahogany wood and sketches beneath him.

Harry couldn't help the grin that had settled on his face. Work had been stressful, as it always was on Mondays. His good news had been spoiled by Ron's bad attitude. But Draco Malfoy had met him in the park and Harry could see him again tomorrow. That was enough. He felt silly and a bit embarrassed to feel this way. The pleasure that he derived from Malfoy's invitation created a feeling that he'd last felt in the owlery at Hogwarts when he'd run into Cho Chang before the Yule Ball. The giddiness he'd felt when she admitted she wanted him to ask her to be his date however was nothing compared to what he felt now.

His answering machine blinked discreetly, silently informing him of the two messages awaiting his attention. Harry took off his jacket, removing his cell before dropping the garment to his couch. He pushed the play button on the machine as he passed it to plug in the cell phone. It was time for it to be recharged. "Harry? It's Ginny," the first message proclaimed. "I just talked to Ron. What'd you say to him?" The question didn't sound angry and Harry wondered what Ron had told his sister. He heard scuffling noises in the background of the message and a slightly panicked voice saying something about high-sticking. "Ugh. Sorry, Harry. I have to go." Ginny sighed. "I'll never know why they let high school kids play hockey." The tape clicked and Harry knew she'd hung up. He made his way back to the chair near the machine, careful not to hit the coffee table as he passed.

"Harry?" questioned the voice from the second message. Harry recognized it as Ron's and released a sigh as he dropped down on the worn cushions of the recliner next to the table. "I don't know if you're home, and I don't blame you for not answering if you are." There was an uncomfortable pause and Harry could imagine that his red-headed friend was pulling himself together. "You're right. I was being selfish and I'm sorry." Harry nodded silently. It must have taken a lot of guilt for Ron to admit that out loud.

"Hermione and I… we're going to Boston to stay with Ginny for a while. I'm going to try. Even if it doesn't work, at least I'll have tried. And Harry? It would mean a lot to us, if you, you know, came to say good-bye. We're leaving on Wednesday. Hermione's calling Hamilton tomorrow to set it all up." There was another pause, this one long enough for Harry to think the message was over. Ron must have sensed the timer was running out though. Just before the message clicked off, Harry heard it, so softly he thought he might have imagined it, though it set a grin to his face nonetheless. "Thanks, mate."

**A/N: There you go. I thought that was a good place to end it. Here's my call outs once more! Thanks to MyHiddenStory, Silverpen18, MorteDolce, Ann, azamystic, potato-head 4, fifespice, MiraiYume, LadyDragonWolfKnight, and SaphireGoddess54 for the reviews. And Angelik Rebel, though I can't tell if that was intentional or not… Whatever. I love you guys! And everyone at work thanks you for making me so hyper all the time! Heh…**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Quiet! Quiet! This is important! ...Chapter 12 is ready. Hee hee! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or that whole universe...And times this by a few times for previous chapters. I forget to put this in.**

**Matchmakers, Inc: **

Seamus Finnigan poured the small bag of freshly made popcorn into his bowl, grabbed two cans of soda and strode from his small kitchen to his messy living room. He maneuvered his way around several piles of clothing and edged between two chairs to flop down on the sofa. Popcorn flew up from the bowl and landed on the cushions between his legs. A deep chuckle came from beside him and he smiled up at his companion. Brian Anders had a friendly laugh, nice blue eyes and a cute dimple in his left cheek. He was also persistent, which is why he was sitting in the Irishman's living room on a Monday evening preparing to watch Resident Evil, an American film Seamus had bought on a whim and had not yet watched. "Tell me, Finnigan, have you ever considered cleaning in here?"

Seamus shook his head and popped a kernel into his mouth. He chewed, pressed play and took a swig of his soda before answering. "Why should I do that? Harry just cleaned it a few days ago." Brian eyed the room doubtfully. "Besides," Seamus continued as the previews began, "next time he needs a bit of advice, which'll be soon, Harry'll clean it again." Brian dipped a hand into the bowl and withdrew from it a large portion of the popcorn. He chewed a few bits as he looked around the room thoughtfully. "So," he said as he swallowed, "you're not embarrassed to have company over to see this?" Brian waved a hand, indicating the mess. Seamus shrugged. "Nope. A room can show who a person really is, right? Why would I want to hide that?" A pair of socks, rolled into a ball, tumbled off the top of a nearby pile of clothing and rolled to land next to his feet. Brian smiled at it and turned his gaze back to the movie.

Seamus and Brian leaned closer to the television as the man on screen peered cautiously around the edge of the wall he'd pressed himself against. Seamus bit his lip nervously and Brian began to whisper, "Don't do it….don't go in there…" The music coming from the movie was eerie, the type of music that clearly stated something bad was about to happen. Even so, both men jumped as the zombie dogs charged into the man. Popcorn flew into the air as the two jolted back. Seamus' cry of horror and Brian's yelp of disgust drowned out the sounds of urgent knocking on the front door. Silence descended once more as the scene shifted to a different part of the school. As it was, Seamus wasn't sure he'd ever set foot in another cafeteria for a long time. Dead little kids were creeping out from beneath desks and slowly advancing on the heroine. A hand fell heavily on his shoulder and Seamus screamed, attempting to stand and turn at the same time but only managing to trip himself, falling ungracefully atop a pile of worn shirts.

"Parkinson!" the Irishman wailed his voice only just loud enough to be heard above the screams from the movie and Brian's uncontrolled laughter. "What the bloody hell did you think you were doing, sneaking up on a man like that?" Seamus stood carefully and brushed bits of popcorn from his clothes. "From now on, I'm locking my…What happened?" Seamus had seen the woman's face and it indicated that all was not well. Brian stopped laughing, alarmed by the sudden seriousness in Seamus' voice. He picked up the remote and pushed the button to pause the movie.

Pansy Parkinson stood before Seamus, wringing her hands. "Finnigan, I don't know what happened! I was talking to Blaise and then he…well, he…" she waved her hands uncertainly before continuing, "he kissed me and then Draco was there and… and…it wasn't on purpose! He left. Went to the kitchen and just flo—" Pansy's rambling was halted by the hand over her mouth. Seamus didn't bother to remove the hand as he turned to face the confused man still balanced precariously on the edge of his sofa. "Brian, I'm sure you remember Pansy Parkinson." Brian nodded slowly, brown hair falling into his eyes. "Pansy, this is Brian Anders, the doorman from the restaurant." Pansy nodded confusion evident on her face. "Now that we all know each other," Seamus continued, finally removing his hand and reaching to pull Brian up from his seated position, "its time for nice little doormen to say good-bye."

Brian protested. "We haven't finished the movie yet! We didn't even get to the really scary part that would make you jump into my arms!" Seamus lifted a brow but continued pushing the taller man to the door. "At least let's agree to meet again. How about tomorrow? Wednesday? Thursday, maybe?" Brian sent Seamus a pleading smile over his shoulder. He sighed. "Alright already! Tomorrow. Call me, okay?" The sandy-haired man shut the door, but it did nothing to dull the loud whoop that echoed down the hall of the apartments.

Shaking his head as he turned around, Seamus came face to face with his recently arrived guest. Pansy was looking at him calculatingly, nodding and humming quietly to herself. "I see," she said softly. Seamus pretended not to know what the woman meant and walked past her into the living room. "You see what, Parkinson?" he asked nonchalantly as he picked up the bowl and empty cans. "You like him," she called from the hall. Seamus dropped the bowl in the sink and threw the cans away. "I do not!" he returned and began making his way back to where Pansy was waiting. "We've only just met. There's no way I can like him already." The former Slytherin merely smiled knowingly. "Why was he here at your house, then? After all," she said, raising a brow, "you've only just met." Seamus blushed and avoided her gaze. "Well, he…is really…" he sighed and his eyes finally met Pansy's. "He just won't give up! Believe me; if I hadn't agreed to him now, he'd be calling every hour on the hour trying to hook up again." Seamus returned to his sofa, beckoning Pansy to follow. He sat and sighed. "He does make good company though."

It was quiet for a moment and Pansy sat daintily next to Seamus. "He's a muggle, isn't he?" Pansy asked. Seamus nodded, watching as the pause ran out on the movie and a blue screen popped up. He left it alone. It was less distracting than the image of a screaming woman running through the dilapidated halls of an abandoned building anyway. "There are some things he doesn't know about," Seamus said slowly, and then shrugged. "It helps me forget." Pansy watched silently as the man brushed a hand through his hair. "So," he started with false brightness, "what are you doing here?" Pansy appeared confused for a minute then groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "Blaise came over to visit," she stated simply, voice muffled beneath her palms. Seamus grinned broadly but turned his expression to one of concern when Pansy looked up. "We were just talking about Hogwarts and before the war. He said something I found funny." She blushed before continuing. "He said my laugh was beautiful. Then he kissed me." Seamus stood and walked to the kitchen to prevent Pansy from seeing the triumphant smile he could no longer hide.

"Then what happened?" he asked, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice. "Then Draco walked in," Pansy said quietly as Seamus started toward the living room again. He gasped. "No way!" Pansy gave a slight smile at the words but quickly sobered. "Yes way." Seamus handed her the glass and clapped his hands together. "That's absolutely perfect! It couldn't have been better if I'd planned it myself!" he exclaimed. Pansy stared at him in shock. "Perfect? You think it's a good thing?" The Irishman nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! He'll turn to Harry again, won't he?" It wasn't a question and Pansy stared at him in doubt. "I thought we wanted Draco to think Blaise was after him again." Seamus waved a hand. "That was before. Now we want him to think Zabini is moving on."

Pansy's brows furrowed together thoughtfully. It made sense. Neither Draco nor Blaise had moved past their break-up and three years was a long time to hold onto the heartache. Maybe it was because Blaise had never gotten someone else that Draco never found anyone. After all, Blaise's cancelled engagement did make the society page of The Daily Prophet. She frowned. "I thought Draco just didn't want to be hurt again." Seamus nodded. "There is that," he agreed. "But it may be an unconscious thing. After all, Malfoy was so close to Zabini for so long." Pansy didn't answer. That was true as well. Draco's crush on the man had started long before Zabini had confessed his feelings. She sighed. Something still worried her though.

"But…" she started slowly. "What about me? We've been friends for years and—." Seamus grinned, interrupting the question. "Well, yeah. If Malfoy is the kind of wizard we know he is, that won't change it much." Pansy looked at him. "You don't think it's… strange? I'm his best friend," she murmured. "It's not weird that his ex-boyfriend was kissing me?" Seamus opened his mouth, then closed it. That was something he hadn't considered. "If…if he's truly your friend," Seamus said gently, "he'll put your happiness above his misery." Pansy nodded, her face not exactly a mask of confidence.

The phone rang and the two turned to look at it. Pansy checked the clock above the television. She'd only been there for thirty minutes. She glanced at Seamus to find the man staring at her in disbelief. "You don't think it's…I mean it's only been…He wouldn't…" Unable to put voice to a coherent thought beyond that point, Seamus sighed and pick up the phone. "He…hello?" he asked timidly. Pansy laughed at the pained expression that came over Seamus' face. "Hi, Brian," he answered with a sigh.

Draco opened his eyes slowly and lifted his head. Then put his head back down. He reached into his pocket and drew out his wand, cursing the sun and its cheerful rays. A swift flick later and the blinds over his windows were drawn, blocking out the bright sunlight of mid-morning. The room was blessedly dark and Draco raised his head again. He sighed and leaned against the back of his desk chair, feeling the puffiness of his eyes with gentle fingers. It would take all day for it to go away naturally. He could put a glamour over it and the problem would disappear immediately. Truthfully though, he was looking for an excuse not to go to work today. The meeting with Pansy could wait until tonight. He sighed, stood and stretched.

His grate had held up during the night, preventing visitors by floo. When the doorbell started ringing the previous evening, Draco had spelled it silent. His phone had been ringing off its hook, prompting him to unplug it during the night. It seemed as though Pansy had given up and for that at least he was relieved. Now he could be alone with his thoughts, heavy as they were. How does one act toward a friend when he catches her snogging the man who broke his heart? This was a question worth careful consideration. Draco grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen and settled down on his couch, matters between Pansy and Blaise foremost in his mind.

The man standing before him was giving some sort of long-winded explanation about some screw up or other that had happened in training. Harry Potter couldn't tell exactly what it was but then he wasn't exactly listening either. He was staring intently at the clock, barely visible above the man's shoulder. How was it possible for the thing to move so slowly? After all, the wizard before him had been talking for what seemed like forever but the hands on the clock had barely moved. Harry frowned as the minute hand seemed to move backwards, not noticing as the explanation ended in a squeak and the man bolted from the room. Was it normal for the hands to move back? Harry didn't think so.

He sighed and stood, gathering his papers and sliding the unorganized stack into his top drawer. He couldn't concentrate on work. Besides, he had better things to do. He just needed to figure out what they were. He wasn't supposed to show up at the show until 7 and it was only, he checked the clock again, 1 pm. Six hours was a long time to kill. Harry leaned back in his chair, chewing thoughtfully on the edge of his thumb. He'd tried calling Seamus four times, but every time, the phone was busy. Harry shrugged. He didn't much feel like discussing Malfoy with the former Gryffindor anyway. Hermione and Ron were busy packing and Harry didn't want to disturb them. Besides, neither knew about Malfoy and he didn't want to add to their problems. So that left…Harry nodded. Then stood, grabbed his cloak and left the office.

Moments later, thanks to the nauseating wonder that was apparition, Harry was standing before Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the Black mansion that housed his old friend and one-time teacher, Remus Lupin. He sighed as he looked up at its whitewashed facade. It seemed Remus had found something on which to spend his spare time. Even the yard looked nicer than it had during the war, when the building was being used as the headquarters for the Order. He walked slowly to the door, taking in the house's new clean appearance. Harry shuddered as he passed a muggle lawn gnome, the ugly thing grinning beneath its little blue cap. It was a good thing school was starting soon. Remus obviously needed something meaningful to do.

Harry stood silently on the stoop of the house, staring in surprise at the door. It was still closed. Every time he came for a visit, the door was open even before he was past the gate. He reached out and pushed the doorbell. The deep chimes echoed through the door and Harry rolled his eyes at the sound. When had the doorbell begun to play "God Save the Queen"? The door opened quietly and Remus Lupin stuck a head out cautiously. "Harry!" he cried, recognizing his friend. He threw open the door and dragged him in. "Come to see my work then, have you?" Harry laughed as the thin man launched into description of all the work he'd completed on the house, from clearing out the attic and it's chestfuls of Dark Items to dusting off the gruesome collection of House-elf heads.

"And the best part of it all," Remus exclaimed, "is that I…Well, just look!" He pointed at one of the paintings in the front hall. Harry realized with a start that the portrait of Sirius' mother was gone, her cursing and screaming with it. In its place rested a large picture, the five figures in it beaming happily. Harry walked forward. Sirius sat in an armchair, relaxing with a foot slung over the edge. Harry laughed as the young man waved to him with a grin. A young Remus was leaning against the side of the chair, arms resting across its back and head placed comfortably atop them. He was smiling gently down at the dark-haired Sirius, occasionally looking around at his other friends. Peter Pettigrew was behind the chair, standing on tip-toe to peek over the edge. He still had the boyish features of a young teen and Harry knew this was before Peter became the rat-faced man that would betray his parents. James stood with Lilly in front of him, arms wrapped around her waist possessively and chin placed on her shoulder. He grinned cockily at Harry as Lilly gave him a small wave.

Remus came up behind Harry. "I couldn't remove the sticking charm but I was able to change the picture. This was the only one large enough to fit the frame," Remus explained. "I thought it was better than Mrs. Black. By the way, I'd stay away from the attic if I were you. She's still pretty sore about the whole you defeating Voldemort thing." Harry laughed and turned with Remus to walk to the kitchen, taking one last look at the picture. "Where's Kreature anyway?" he asked curiously. Remus sighed and held open the door for Harry to walk through. "He passed on, but not before he got what he wanted." Remus pointed across the hall at the newest addition to the heads. "I'm not sure how he did it but it wasn't with my help." Remus shrugged.

Remus motioned Harry to sit and disappeared for a moment into the kitchen. He returned carrying a tray piled with small snacks. He settled in a chair across from Harry with the food placed between them. "So Harry," he said, picking up a grape, "why have you come to visit with out so much as a warning? Not that I don't appreciate the company, mind you." Harry nodded, chewing on a cube of cheese. "Remus, what do you… I mean…" Harry paused. When he decided to come here, he hadn't known exactly what he was going to say. He figured it would come to him. Now that he was here, he still didn't know what to say.

Remus looked at his former student closely. "There is something you wish to discuss?" he asked gently. Harry nodded. "When did you know you liked Sirius?" Remus looked confused. "Since I met him, Harry, you know that." Harry shook his head, feeling the flush creeping up his neck. "Not like, _like_," he said, his voice low. "Oh," Remus said. "I see. Well, about fifth year I suppose. Why?" Remus noted the blush that had risen to the cheeks of the boy in front of him and sighed. "After a quidditch game against Ravenclaw, I went to find James because he hadn't come out of the locker room yet." Harry looked up, listening as Remus recalled the day. "Sirius was the only one in there, so we decided to go look for him together. When we got to the door, though, it was raining. Storming, actually," he said with a small laugh.

"Neither of us had our wands, so we decided to simply wait it out. We talked for a while, about school, James and how much Lilly hated him, and other things. Somehow Severus came up and Sirius got mad. He said it annoyed him how I always told him and James to leave the boy alone. Then, he blushed. At the time I thought it was strange. Sirius was never embarrassed." Harry nodded. Even for the few years he had known Sirius, Harry could tell he was not a man that blushed easily. "Sirius told me he was jealous of all the time I spent defending Severus. He told me he would stop picking on the man only if I stopped thinking about him. He said he wanted me to only think about him and no one else. Then he smiled, as if all that he'd revealed was nothing out of the ordinary." Remus paused in his story, meeting Harry's gaze. "He left then, running right through the rain. I knew then that I liked him. It took a while longer for me to tell him, of course. I waited until seventh year." Remus shrugged and sighed. "Had I known that our time together would be so short, I would have told him much sooner."

Both men were quiet for a moment. "Did that help any, Harry?" the werewolf asked. Harry nodded a little. "I was just curious, is all." Remus watched the younger man closely before reaching out and tapping his hand. "Harry, who is that you think you like?" he asked gently. Harry straightened with a blush. "No one! I just wanted to know!" he protested loudly. Remus leaned back in his chair, watching the flustered hero. "You left work five hours early, and by apparition, because you had a sudden question about something that happened more than 20 years ago." Harry's blush deepened. "And this thing just happened to do with my feeling for Sirius. Have I about got it?" Harry nodded, eyes averted. Remus sighed. "Harry, please. I'm a teacher and a veteran of two wars. Do you honestly believe you can lie to me?"

When Harry looked appropriately chastised, Remus tried again. "Who is it, Harry?" The brunet buried his head in his arms. Remus wondered that the man could fight a war, defeat a madman, and still act so immature at times. Harry mumbled something and the thin man leaned forward across the table. "I'm sorry, Harry, could you repeat that?" Harry lifted his head, face now completely crimson. "I said Malfoy, okay? Draco Malfoy!" Then he dropped his head again. Remus stared down at the other man, surprise and disbelief warring on his face. He didn't know what to say and so said the only thing he could think of. "Oh, my."

**A/N: Okay! A lot of stuff happened in this chapter, huh? I'll leave you all to figure it all out, mostly because I don't feel like explaining. Nyah! Anyway, it's time for the shoutouts again! Thanks to The Wykkyd, LadyDragonWolfKnight, azamystic, MorteDolce, Angelik Rebel, Ann, fifespice, fourth-face-of-the-goddess, potato-head4, and silverpen 18. Thanks to all and thanks to for the job advice! Heh. See ya next chapter!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hello again, readers. What's up, how's it going and all that rot. Just to be nice, I'll skip whatever else I might say and get to the story. **

**Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own Harry Potter, but you knew that already, didn't you?**

**Matchmakers, Inc: **I hate Tuesdays

Pansy Parkinson looked out the window. Standing in a rather large group at the banquet hall down the street were the reporters and crowds waiting to be the privileged few to see Draco's new line of winter clothing. She had to struggle not to bite her manicured fingernails. It was half past six and her friend had yet to make an appearance. Pansy nervously smoothed her dress and then combed her fingers lightly through her hair. The crowd seemed to grow and Pansy felt the pressure rise against her chest. Merlin, she hadn't felt this worked up even at their first show. She lifted her necklace and played with the charm at the end for a moment before slipping it between her lips. She chewed on the thin bit of metal as she contemplated the problem with Draco.

Seamus had assured her that everything would be okay. She was beginning to doubt the man. Draco hadn't answered any of her phone calls and ignored her even when she stood outside his door. Maybe Blaise had the right of things. Draco Malfoy wouldn't give anyone enough of a second chance to explain what had happened to the first. That scared her. A lot. Because she wasn't just anyone. Pansy had been Draco's best friend for fifteen years. More importantly, he had been hers.

She followed him to the light side not because she believed in what Potter and his bleeding heart friends believed in but because she trusted Draco. Because she didn't want to lose him. She stood by him when Potter doubted Draco and helped to prove his sincerity. She had wanted to kill Blaise for hurting Draco, had only been able to restrain herself because there had been bigger issues requiring her attention. She felt no remorse for killing the death eaters that attacked Draco. He was her best friend, the closest thing she had to a brother. To know that she had been the one to hurt him this time, albeit unintentionally, was ripping at her heart and she could feel the dark burn of shame in her stomach.

Seamus was insane, Pansy decided, letting her necklace fall. Draco wouldn't overlook this. He couldn't be happy knowing that Blaise was. She sighed. Not even for her would he give up his anger at the man. Not that she could blame him. If she didn't know the truth, she would still hate him as well. Pansy considered telling Draco what had really happened. The more she thought about it, the more appealing it seemed. She shook her head. She would never actually do it though. Draco knowing the truth wouldn't change the fact that she had been kissing his ex-boyfriend. Besides, she still believed it wasn't her story to tell. Slytherin she was and always had been but she was not vindictive.

The door opened softly behind her. "Mrs. Parkinson," came the voice of her secretary, "Mr. Malfoy called. He said he would meet you at the limo." Pansy turned in time to see the confusion on the young woman's face. "Mr. Malfoy said you knew where it was and how to get there." Pansy nodded stiffly. The woman turned slightly and waved a hand to her desk. "I asked if he'd like to speak with you directly but he just hung--" She was interrupted by a loud pop and looked over her shoulder at the empty room. She scanned the area and shrugged. Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Parkinson were a strange couple, but she wasn't paid to ask questions. She shut the door and returned to her desk.

Draco stared out the tinted windows of the limo. He'd been relaxing against the luxurious seat for the past hour, waiting for the right time to call Pansy to him. It would be less than professional to arrive at the show without his business partner, whatever their personal circumstances might be. There was a popping noise to his left. Draco gave no indication that he heard it. He could already smell Pansy's favorite perfume. He felt her shift a little and knew she would try to say something, but he wasn't ready to speak with her just yet. He leaned forward and tapped on the small window separating then from the driver. "Let's go, Tanner."

The limo started away, smoothly entering traffic from the alley in which it had been waiting. Draco heard Pansy sigh and settle herself back against the seat. It was a short ride, he knew, but it was also the most uncomfortable he'd had in years. He considered the silence for a moment. Yes, definitely enough to warrant third place on his list of Most Uncomfortable Rides. The vehicle began to slow and Draco wondered if maybe he had too many lists. He could just combine them into one long one. He shook his head. Maybe if he just stopped thinking every time he got nervous, he wouldn't have any lists at all. The door opened and Draco wiped all thoughts from his mind as he exited through it to massive cheering.

Almost immediately, he slipped his Malfoy mask into place. It was the calm, collected and confident expression he used most often. Reaching back with a smile, he offered his hand to Pansy, looking at his friend for the first time since she'd arrived. She looked nervous and ducked her head as she allowed him to pull her out of the backseat. When Pansy's head rose, she too was wearing a mask. They smiled at the crowd, giving the obligatory waves before striding into the show hall as if they owned it. It was almost twenty minutes later before Draco was able to lead Pansy to their seats next to the runway.

Photographers hustled here and there, frantically attempting to set up equipment in a place that allowed for the best shots. Draco checked his watch, seemingly unperturbed by the people. It was five minutes until the start of the show. Seats around and behind him were filling up rapidly with one glaring exception. He frowned at the empty chair next on his left, then sighed. Potter had said he might be late. Lights began to flash and the music began to play. The audience stilled and quieted. Draco watched as the first model, a small brunette, walked gracefully out onto the runway. Instantly, murmurs rippled through the crowd, not quite drowning out the announcer's commentary on the jade green dress she wore. Draco listened to it all, his hand resting lightly on the empty chair beside him.

Harry paused outside the building, breathing heavily as he nervously tried to smooth down his hair. He almost growled at the people still teeming around the banquet hall. If they hadn't been there, he might have been able to apparate, having walked past this place many times before. Unfortunately, they were, and he had never actually been inside the hall which meant he couldn't get there directly. He dropped his hand and strode to the glass double doors in what he hoped was a confident manner. He was stopped just in front of them by a tall man with brown hair cropped close to his head.

The man glared down at him and Harry resisted the urge to gulp. "You get an invite?" he asked harshly. Harry nodded slowly, reaching into his jacket pocket and withdrawing the slip of paper Malfoy had given him. The tall man eyed it critically for a moment, his face softening slightly. "Oh, so you're the one," he murmured under his breath. Harry frowned. "I'm sorry? I'm the one what?"

The man grinned broadly and handed the paper back, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "You'd better get a move on, Potter. Mr. Malfoy's not a man to keep waiting." Harry got the distinct impression that this man knew more about him than he was saying but a glance at his watch told him he had no time for questions. He nodded curtly as he passed and walked through the doors into a richly decorated hall. He bit his lip, looking left and right. The door opened behind him and he turned, coming face to face with the security guard. "You'll be wanting to go that way then," he said, pointing Harry down a side corridor. Harry nodded his thanks and set off.

Even with directions and a pass, it took him several minutes to arrive at his destination. He slipped through the doors and weaved between chairs, making his way to the front as a leggy red-head girl strutted down the runway in a short black dress. The flashing of multiple cameras illuminated Malfoy and the empty chair beside him. Harry sighed in relief and began to make his way over to the blond.

Draco sighed the next model took the stage. The show was almost over and Potter still hadn't made an appearance. He looked over at Pansy through the corner of his eyes. To everyone else, she looked as though she was enjoying the show, but he knew it to be otherwise. Pansy was nervous. It was clear by the way she was chewing on her necklace. Someone sat in the empty chair next to him, lifting and holding his hand as they did so. Draco turned to get rid of the intruder only to find himself staring into familiar green eyes.

"You're late, Potter," he said, then cursed himself for his stupidity. That wasn't how he wanted to greet Potter when he came. He wanted to thank him, to show him how much it meant that he showed at all. Potter shrugged and smiled. "I know. Sorry." He turned to watch the rest of the show. Draco looked at the man for a moment and then, smiling softly, turned his gaze back to the runway and the dark-haired model striding down it. He had a reason to be pleased after all. Harry Potter was still holding his hand.

**A/N: And there it is, folks. Hope you enjoyed it, even if it is a bit on the short side. Anyway, time for my call outs! Thanks to AngelikRebel, fifespice, MorteDolce, Ann, azamystic, LadyDragonWolfKnight, silverpen18, Tu lo sai, inc., Fuelled by Ramen and fantasizeaway33 for all the reviews. Love you guys! See ya when I see ya!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hee. I'm so glad you guys liked the last chapter! I'd tell you something in answer to all the suggestions I've been given, but I don't want to ruin the surprise! And just a warning: this chapter is a little short.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, no. Still don't own the HP universe.**

**Matchmakers, Inc.: **What does this mean?

Draco sat in comfortable silence with the man across the table from him. After the show, and its subsequent celebrations, he and Potter had escaped to a small diner for a late dinner. He chewed thoughtfully on a slice of greasy pizza. Potter had made him try the stuff, but if he was truthful, it wasn't so bad. A stringy piece of cheese trailed from his mouth to the slice and Draco tried to pull it away with the tips of his fingers but the piece only grew longer. Potter chuckled softly and Draco lifted his eyes to glare enviously at him. How was he able to keep his pizza from falling apart? Potter's slice was cradled in his palm, but unlike Draco's, there were no stray bits of cheese and sauce falling off.

Potter smiled at him and Draco fought to keep the blush from his face. He must have been blind in his younger years, to ever have hated a man with a smile like that. "You have to cut through the cheese all the way before you pull the pizza away. Like this." Draco stared, transfixed as the man demonstrated, showing off perfect teeth. Then he shook his head and turned his face away. "Well, excuse me if I'm used to real pizza, not this pseudo-Italian stuff," he said, dropping the slice on his plate and resting his chin on his hand as he glared out the window. Potter laughed again and reached over, pulling a bit of the stringy mess from Draco's face. The blond man was unable to stop the blush this time.

"So," he started slowly, casting about for something, anything to talk about, rather than follow his gut and jump across the table onto Potter, "why were you late? Something come up at work?" Potter was quiet and Draco turned to look at him. The other man had set his pizza down and was staring at it intently, as though the greasy confection of fake cheese and tomato paste held all the answers to the universe. "No, nothing at work," Potter replied, just as slowly. Then he seemed to make up his mind about something. Draco flinched a little as green eyes stared directly into his. "I went to talk to Remus."

Draco frowned. Why was that name familiar? Potter's face seemed expectant, so it had to be someone they both knew. Then it hit him. "You mean the werewolf. Yeah, what about him?" Potter's calm expression faltered a bit, but remained on his face. "Remus," he said stressing the name, "helped me out a bit. It just took longer than I intended." Draco nodded. "And what did the wolf have to say?" he asked, purposely refusing to say his former professor's name. Potter shook his head and sat back in the booth. "If you can't be polite, then I won't tell you." Draco imitated the move. "Fine. Don't tell. Who cares what an old _wolf_ has to say anyway."

The two sat in silence once more and Potter started eating his pizza again. Draco tapped his foot. He drummed his fingers as Potter chewed calmly in his non-messy way. He twirled the ends of his hair around his finger as the other man took a sip. "Alright!" he exclaimed finally. "Okay. I care what an old wolf has to say. Will you just tell me already?" Potter raised a brow and finished chewing his bite of pizza. Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine. What did ex-Professor Lupin have to say that was so bloody important?"

Potter smiled. "Actually, he's a professor again." Draco sat straight in surprise. "Really? How did that happen?" Potter shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Anyway didn't you want to know what he said?" Draco nodded and leaned forward again, expecting the dark-haired man to finally reveal his secret. Instead, Potter dropped his slice and came around the table, sliding in the booth to sit next to Draco. "Come closer," he said, motioning Draco forward. "It's a secret."

Draco scooted forward, mindful of his jacket. It wouldn't do to wrinkle the thing and be forced to wear it for the remainder of the night. "What was it?" he asked, voice low despite his curiosity. Potter glanced left and right, presumably checking for eavesdroppers, then leaned forward.

And kissed him.

Draco Malfoy sat, eyes wide in disbelief, in the middle of a muggle pizza parlor with Harry Potter kissing him. His eyes drifted closed and he relaxed into the kiss, sliding his hand around the smaller man's shoulder, but Potter shifted away. He broke the kiss and stood, stretching and looking at the clock. "Oh my, look at the time. I'd better head out if I'm supposed to be able to get to work on time tomorrow." Draco watched in shock as the man strode out the swinging door of the restaurant. He jumped up, throwing a few muggle notes on the table, and rushed after him, ignoring the curious stares and the giggles he received.

"Potter, wait!" he called following the man into the darkened alley. "What does this mean? Potter?" The hero turned to face him, standing in a pool of light cast by the lamp outside the restaurant's back door, and winked. Draco sighed as the man apparated away. "You didn't even tell me what Lupin said," he muttered, preparing to apparate himself. "Bloody wanker." Then the alley was empty.

Pansy nervously paced her living room, still wearing the dress she'd worn at the show. She meant to talk to Draco at the after-party, but she hadn't been able to find him. She knew he was with Potter, had seen the man slip in late and claim the chair next to Draco. But it was hard to be happy for the man when she was stuck wondering if they still were friends. She passed him twice before she realized Draco was standing at the entrance to the room. She bit her lip and tried not to look too hopeful as he raised a brow and stared at her. Hopeful was a Gryffindor trait, certainly not something in which a Slytherin such as herself should indulge.

"You could have told me you liked Blaise," Draco said softly, breaking the silence. Pansy shook her head. "Oh, Draco, I swear I didn't know that was going to happen! I never even thought he liked me," she protested. "And I thought…I thought…" she sat on the couch, unable to stop the tears from falling. "I'm so sorry, Draco! I thought you hated me." Her friend sat next to her and pulled her into a hug. She cried on his shoulder and he rubbed her back. When she finally pulled away, her gaze found Draco's. "You know I would never hurt you on purpose, right?" she asked. Draco nodded.

"Just warn me a little before you start accepting advances from anyone else who might have betrayed me and broken my heart," he said, frowning down at her. "You're not angry?" she asked tremulously. Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I am a little. But, you're my best friend, right? Think and thin and all that rot." Draco shrugged. "You stood by me every time I needed you to. I don't want to lose a friendship like that over some man, even if he is an arse."

Draco leaned back into the cushions and looked at Pansy again. "If you want to go for Blaise, I'm not going to support you. You know that. But I won't stop you either, not if he makes you happy." Pansy smiled and started to say something but Draco wasn't finished yet. "And if he hurts you, I swear, I'll hex him 'til he dead! Then I'll bring him back so I can do it again!" Pansy smiled. "Draco, you are spending entirely too much time with Potter. What happened to all the elegant threats I'm so used to hearing, Hmm?"

Draco shrugged again, blushing slightly. "And since we're talking about Potter, why don't you tell me what happened tonight to put you in such a forgiving mood." Draco turned his face away, trying to keep his blush from Pansy's too-sharp eyes. She frowned, blinked, and leaned forward. She looked at him closely before sitting back, blinking again. "Draco, dear? Is that pizza sauce on your cheek?" she asked, her voice incredulous.

**A/N: Alright, I know this is short. Really, really short. But I've got a bit much on my plate now. I felt bad though so I went ahead an put this up as it was. I'll update again soon. Give me a week or so! Anyway, here's my thanks: fifespice, AngelikRebel, HikaruNoJingoku, Tu lo sai, Inc., LadyDragonWolfKnight, Ann, azamystic, T. Felton, potato-head4, MorteDolce, MiraiYume (twice over!), and silverpen 18. Thanks everyone!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hello, hello. I'm back and sorry for the wait. Here you go!**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, same as always. Not mine and I'm not making money off this.**

**Matchmakers, Inc.: **

Harry grinned to himself as Draco Malfoy's confused face melted away from his view and his own living room appeared. He was still grinning as he readied himself for bed, discarding the clothes he'd worn to the fashion show and taking a hot shower before sliding into a comfortable pair of worn sweats and an old shirt.

Remus had been speechless when Harry had first revealed his growing affection for his one-time enemy, but eventually accepted it. Harry found this strange as he himself had not yet accepted his feelings. He had never even thought of another male in such a way, and it unsettled him to think of any man, Draco in particular, as a potential mate. Actually, Remus had spent two hours trying to get Harry to stop rambling about that fact, and finally his former DADA professor had simply spelled his mouth closed.

"What you have to do now, Harry," the man had said reasonably, "is accept that you are thinking about Draco Malfoy in a sexual way." Harry had blushed to the roots of his hair with that statement, but Remus hadn't been finished yet. "You are beginning to see him in an entirely different way than you had in school, and it scares you. It scared me when I began to see Sirius in that way. But aren't you the least bit curious to see where it will lead?" He released the spell and watched as Harry considered the question.

He thought about the first time he and Draco had kissed, really kissed, not that peck at Seamus' party but the kiss that had left him standing dazed in the front hall of his townhouse, staring blankly at the door and wondering how it had all happened. He pictured Draco sitting beside him on the park bench, moonlight adding a soft shimmering glow to his silken hair and smooth skin. He pictured the hopeful look that had gleamed from the other man's eyes when Draco had asked Harry to come to his fashion show and he smiled, looking up to meet Remus' watchful gaze.

"Yeah," he had answered softly. "I am curious. I want to know how far this can take us." Remus had nodded. "I knew you would," he'd replied. "How are you going to tell him?" The rest of the afternoon was spent planning how Harry would reveal his intentions to Draco until he had happened to look at a clock hanging near one of the windows and realized he was late. Remus had wished him luck and Harry had been glad for it.

Harry was still smiling when he woke up the next morning, stretching and whistling as he made his way to the bathroom to take care of the little problem his dreams about a certain pale-haired fashion designer had caused. On his way back out, he caught sight of his calendar, a gift from Seamus. Many of the pictures had been of half-naked Irishmen, but Harry hadn't wanted to offend his friend and had hung the thing up, folding over the side with the pictures so that they were hidden from his gaze. It was Tuesday.

The smiled faded from his face and he sighed, reaching for the phone and calling in another personal day. Thank Merlin the ministry had invested in the telephone lines. He hadn't had the heart to get another owl after Hedwig had died and with as often as he called in lately, he would have been in dire need of one.

Harry took a deep breath as he stood uncertainly at the front door to the Granger house. He could hear voice on the other side, Hermione calling for the boxes and muffled answers from both her parents. Harry frowned. He was the savior of the wizarding world, for Merlin's sake. After having faced down one of the most powerful dark wizards of all time, how could he be even remotely nervous at having to bid farewell to his closest friends?

He lifted a hand slowly, paused for a moment to stiffen his resolve, and knocked on the door. It was swung open so quickly Harry almost jumped. Ron sat on the other side. He and Harry simply looked at each other for a tense moment. "It Harry, Hermione1" the red-head called over his shoulder. "We'll be right back!" Ron pushed his chair out the door and turned it to wheel to the far side of the long porch. "Shut that door, will you, Harry?" Ron asked, looking left and right as though searching for something.

Harry complied and followed the other man, stopping next to him and trying to keep his confusion from his face. Ron looked uncomfortable, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck and not quite meeting Harry's gaze. "Listen," he started, "I know I've been a jerk lately. I'm sorry," he said softly. Harry said nothing but nodded. "And I just wanted you to know, I appreciate your help and your sticking by us this whole time."

Ron grimaced. "Also, Ginny told us it was the fer…Malfoy," he spat the name distastefully, "who found the doctor." Harry nodded again and Ron moaned. "Merlin, I'd hoped it was another of the twins' jokes. Well, Hermione insists we thank him too. Just don't expect me to be nice to the bloody ferret!" Harry grinned. "No one's asking you to, Ron."

As the two slowly made their way back to the front door, Ron looked at his friend closely. He wasn't smart, not like Hermione, or talented like Harry, but that wasn't to say he was stupid. He knew when something was up, and this something was so far up he wasn't sure Harry's prized Firebolt could reach it. "So," he said casually, watching Harry from the corner of his eyes. "How long have you and Malfoy been hanging out?"

Ron's question was rewarded with a blush and a stammered answer he was sure even Hermione couldn't decipher. Harry fell silent and Ron laughed when he actually gulped. "Bloody hell, mate! You'd think I'd asked how long you'd been dating!" His laughter faded away when he realized Harry hadn't replied. He twisted his head, trying to look at the face of the man pushing his wheelchair into the house and down the hall and what he saw made the blood drain from his face. "Oh, hell," he muttered, for once thankful for the chair that supported him. "Not another one."

**A/N: I know, I know! Its short! Really short. But finals are coming up and truthfully I've got eight pages of homework due tomorrow that I haven't finished. But I promised I'd update this week and this is what I have. Sorry! Anyway, here are my thanks again: fifespice, daemonfamiliar, potato-head4, AngelikRebel, LadyDragonWolfKnight, Ann, azamystic, MorteDolce, mandraco, silverpen18, Intrepid Aarcher, Shakespeares Whore, KRIS, Hyper Hippie, and MiraiYume. Wow, that was a lot this time! Thanks you guys! **


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hello again. I know, I know. I've kept you all waiting too long. I'm sorry! I've been catching up on some seriously needed sleep. But yeah, I won't keep you waiting any longer. Here it is!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. You get the drift.**

**Matchmakers, Inc.:** Partings and surprises

Several hours later, baggage pack and luggage sent ahead, Harry found himself in the airport, getting ready to wave off his two closest friends. Even though he was smiling, he knew this would be a hard good-bye. Ron and Hermione had been two constants in his life since his first year at Hogwarts and though they had parted each summer, there had been a sense of security in those partings. Harry always knew that in a short two months, he would see them again.

This time, however, he didn't know. None of them knew how long it would be before Ron could leave the rehab center. Even Hermione could do no more than hazard a guess. "No one ever starts walking again on a set schedule," she had said with a sad shrug when Harry had asked. "It could take months, even years."

"You with us, mate?" Ron's voice interrupted his thoughts. Harry grinned down at him, shoving the last vestiges of such depressing thoughts from his mind. "Just thinking about how great it'll be with you gone." He gave a happy little sigh. "I've been waiting ten years to get rid of you." Ron snorted disbelievingly.

"Right, mate," he said. "Whatever makes you feel better. You know you're going to go home and cry for three days straight after that plane takes off." Then he grimaced and looked up at Hermione. "Why do we have to take that muggle thing anyway, 'Mione? Can't we just floo over? Or apparate? Portkey? Anything?" He caught sight of another plane taking off outside the window and Harry laughed as Ron's face took on a decidedly green tint.

"Pish," Hermione replied. "You know as well as I that intercontinental travel is impossible on the floo network. Neither of us have ever been to Boston before so we can't apparate and you know how expensive portkeys are." Ron shrugged, still looking nervously out the window.

"I don't mind getting lost if we apparate," he said, running a shaking hand down his face. "You'll mind losing a limb," Hermione said as she moved around Ron's wheelchair and dropped to sit on a nearby bench. Ron looked at her with pleading brown eyes. "Couldn't you just make a portkey?" he asked, his voice desperate. Another plane took off and he flinched. Harry was finding it difficult not to laugh at Ron's reaction to such a normal event.

"Ron," Hermione started in a scandalized voice. "Do you know how much time it takes to make a portkey? Not to mention cost of materials, and getting Ministry approval. Why, we'd be better off just having bought one." Ron scowled and turned his face away. Harry could just barely hear as he mumbled, "So just buy one already."

"What are you scared of anyway?" Hermione asked. "You go flying on your broom all the time, and there was the time you stole you dad's flying car." Ron waved a hand. "That's different! It runs on magic, perfectly safe. These planes don't. What if the engines stop or something?" Hermione shook her head as Ron continued listing all the possible things that could go wrong and result in horrible, painful death.

When Hermione looked up and suddenly gasped, Ron quieted and turned the chair enough to see what had caused Hermione such shock. Harry looked as well and smiled faintly at the sight of Seamus standing a few feet away, gazing awkwardly at the trio. Was that the doorman from the restaurant standing behind him? He certainly looked like him. Harry wondered vaguely what had been happening in the few days since he'd seen Seamus, but he stepped back and quietly let the Irishman have his reunion with Ron and Hermione.

For a moment, no one said anything, then Seamus ran a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell," he said with a sigh. "I can't be mad at an invalid, now can I?" he asked. Ron grinned. "It's about damn time you realized it. What did Harry have to beat it into you or something?" he teased. Saemus smiled too and said, "Nah, but he is a persistent little bugger isn't he? Left fifteen messages on my machine telling me you two were headed off to America for a while."

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Listen Seamus-" What ever he had been about to say was cut off with a surprised gasp. His eyes flew around until they fell on Harry, watching quietly as Seamus hugged Ron. "I know it wasn't your fault, mate," Seamus said softly. "And I'm sorry I stayed away for so long." He released the red-head and stepped back, grinning up at Hermione. "I'd hug you too, but we all know how possessive Ron is."

Hermione laughed and threw her arms around Seamus' neck. "We all also know how devoted to the male gender you are, Seamus," she returned. "So I'm in no danger." Ron laughed with the others before pulling on the back of Hermione's sweater. She stepped away from Seamus and laughed again as he mock-scowled. "And you're not going to be the one to turn him back, 'Mione."

Seamus snorted. "Right. Fat chance, mate. No offense to Hermione or anything but the female body just doesn't do it for me. I need someone tall and warm and hard…" Ron's face flushed as red as his hair and he let out a little choking noise. "That's enough!" he managed. Seamus blinked down in surprise then smiled wickedly as realization dawned. "Whoa, Ron, you pervert. I didn't mean that! I was talking about chests and not breasts."

If possible, Ron's face turned even more red and he turned away, only to look out the window and see yet another plane take off. The red faded as a sick green took its place. The stranger with Seamus, who had been standing quietly off to the side and watching the scene with interest, chuckled. "God, it's like watching Christmas lights!" he exclaimed with a bark of laughter.

Seamus giggled and turned to beckon him forward. "Sorry, I didn't introduce you guys yet. Ron, Hermione, this is Brian Anders." He nodded and Hermione looked at him thoughtfully. Ron's brows furrowed as though trying to remember something and Harry nodded. It was the doorman.

"Brian, these are my friends, Ron Weasly and Hermione Granger," Seamus continued, oblivious to the sudden scowl that crossed Ron's face. "What the bloody hell are you doing with Seamus?" he asked, fury ringing in the question. Hermione looked down at Ron, taking in the hands clenched tightly around the ends of his armrests, then looked up to Brian, finally realizing why the face was so familiar.

"It's him, isn't it, Ron?" she asked, eyes wide. Ron clenched his teeth and nodded. "Yeah, it's him." Seamus looked between the two and then at Brian, slowly backing away, instinctively realizing that whatever was about to be revealed would not be anything good. Harry chose this moment to step forward and interrupt.

"Ron? What's wrong?" he asked gently. "That's him, Harry!" Ron burst out. "I thought it might be but I wasn't sure until I heard his name!" Harry looked at Seamus, who shrugged. "Who is he, Ron?" he asked, shifting his gaze to Brian, pinning the other man nervously to the spot. "He's from St. Mungo's," Ron spat. "He's the nurse that didn't come fast enough!"

**A/N: Okay, sorry this one was so long in coming, but I'm taking a mini-mester right now and it's pretty hectic. Anyway, thanks for waiting. Here's my shout outs! Thanks to azamystic, AngelikRebel, MorteDolce, Samairi, Hyper Hippie, silverpen18, LadyDragonWolfKnight, fifespice, theifThornsofNirvanatheif, and MiraiYume for the reviews! I love reviews….heh.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Whoa! That was a more violent response than I was expecting. **

**Disclaimer: This gets annoying… It's not mine, folks! As if you couldn't tell by writing styles and all that…**

**Matchmakers, Inc.: **In which Brian (eventually) tells the truth

Silence descended on the group after Ron's announcement. Brian turned to face Seamus, panic shining vividly in his eyes. "Seamus, I…" Whatever the man had been about to say was cut off by the harsh sound of a slap. It was so sudden that it took several moments and the sight of Brian's rapidly reddening cheek for Harry to realize that Seamus had hit the taller man.

Harry couldn't miss the tears shining in Seamus' eyes, dark with emotion, nor did he miss the way he flinched when Brian reached for him. "Don't…just…ugh!" Then Seamus spun on his heel and disappeared through the crowd leaving only that incoherent phrase behind.

Immediately, Brian moved to follow the distraught Irishman but Harry grabbed and held fast to the collar of his shirt. Ron sat slumped in his chair, his anger having deflated at the first sight of tears from his friend's eyes. Hermione alternated between whispering softly to him and glaring harshly at Brian, who didn't even notice.

Harry sighed and motioned Ron and Hermione to the boarding area just as the announcement sounded, calling passengers to their flights. Ron latched on to Harry's sleeve as Hermione started to push him past. "We really screwed it up this time, didn't we, mate?" he asked voice soft. Harry shook his head and cast a brief glance in the direction in which Seamus had disappeared. "No. He just needs to figure some stuff out. Better now than later, when it would have been too late."

Ron nodded. "We'll be back soon. I've got a reason to walk now." He scowled up at Brian and Harry could see that the other man was visibly trying not to flinch. "I'll get better, no thanks to you. Then I'll come back and I'll kick your bloody arse, mate. Count on it." Hermione gave a curt nod and started to push Ron to the loading area. Before she turned a corner, she looked back over her shoulder and called back, "I want tickets to that, Harry! Front row, you hear me!"

Harry grinned as he waved to his last view of them, and laughed as he heard Ron's voice float back to him over the hustle and bustle of the airport lobby. "Oh, bloody hell, 'Mione! We're getting on that?!" Then he turned his attention to Brian and looked the man over. He seemed incredibly nervous.

"So," Harry said casually, "judging from the fact that you worked at St. Mungo's, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you're not a Muggle." Brian met his eyes guiltily before nodding. "Uh, yeah." Harry nodded. "Right then. We'll need somewhere to talk and I know just the place."

Seamus ran blindly through the crowd, easily losing count of both how many people he'd run into and how many tears had fallen, despite his desperate attempts to stop the flow. Even now, with his mind in such shambles, it still amazed him that no one seemed to care that someone was running around crying. For some reason, the thought only made him feel worse and he choked back a sob as he finally reached the wide double doors and flew through them to the outside.

Cool air hit his face, partially drying the trails of tears that streaked down his face, but only until the next drop fell. He looked around and found a small, narrow opening set into the side of the building. Thanking a hundred wizards, starting with Merlin and ending with Dumbledore in the space of a second, Seamus ducked into the dark area and apparated away without bothering to check and see if anyone would notice. He didn't care anymore, and the ministry could count itself lucky that he'd at least tried to hide.

Moments later, he appeared outside his apartment, but he didn't enter. He left and jogged hurriedly down the stairs. There was one place for sure, that no one would ever think to find him. Somewhere to figure this out, away from anyone who cared. Now, if only he could figure out where exactly it was.

Draco groaned as he crumpled up yet another piece of paper and tossed it over his shoulder to join the growing pile he refused to turn and look at. _Nothing_ was turning out right. Frustrated, he dropped his head down on the desk, not even worrying that the bottle of ink next to him wobbled dangerously before settling calmly into place.

How could this happen? Every time he went near Potter, Draco was flooded with ideas, images of new designs, a cape, a dress, robes that managed to show off a person's figure rather than to hide it, any number of things that Potter would look delectable wearing. Such trains of thought inevitably led to picturing slowly stripping the same items off the smaller man and kissing and licking his way to…well, it was better that he not finish that thought. Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment, sighing in relief as the tightening in his jeans eased.

He focused on breathing, maybe it would help get the creative juices flowing. Pansy had called just that morning urging him to turn in a few more designs for the upcoming winter line. She never would let him procrastinate. In, out, in, out…but then he could always call Potter for a quick inspiration date. As soon as he thought it, he discarded it.

After last night, he hadn't gotten a single call from the man and there was absolutely no way Draco Malfoy would be the first to break. Besides, hadn't hero-boy mentioned he'd be seeing off the weasel and his girl?

Draco's thoughts silenced and his ears perked. He held his breath and listened closely. There it was again, a dull pounding echoing through his house. He lifted his head and brushed off the paper that came with it. In moments, he was up and down the hall, following the noise to the front door.

Who would be banging on his door in the middle of the day? "Malfoy! Malfoy, please let me in!" Oh, never mind. Just Potter's little Irish friend. Draco turned to go back upstairs but stopped when Finnigan called out to him again, in a voice so pitiful that he couldn't just ignore it.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Draco Malfoy was not heartless.

When Draco opened the door, it was to find Seamus crouching on his doorstep, knees held tightly to his chest and hand pressed against his eyes, apparently staunching the flow of tears but not well enough.

Draco rolled his eyes upward and sighed. Pansy could forget about those sketches, and at least now he had an appropriate excuse.

"God save the Queen" chimed through the house cheerily as Remus Lupin opened the door to find Harry and another man standing outside. "This is serious then, is it?" he asked as he stepped back to allow the two entrance. Harry nodded grimly. Remus watched the other man, but he stared at the floor, as though he found the worn tile the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

Remus shut the door and led the way to the study down the hall just as the last chords of the song faded away. A serious place was always good for a serious discussion. Once inside, he and Harry both sat on the couch while the stranger claimed a chair facing them.

"Remus," Harry said, "this is Brian Anders, a …friend of Seamus'. Brian, this is Remus Lupin." Remus didn't miss the pause in Harry's introduction. Interesting.

From that point on, Harry apparently decided to stop beating around the bush because his next words were, "Who are you really, Brian?" Brian took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm Brian Anders," he replied, "certified medi-wizard, level five." Harry frowned and Remus sat back, watching the scene unfold. "This was something you couldn't be bothered to share with Seamus?" Harry asked voice low to mask his anger.

"I didn't think it was important!" Brian protested. "I quit St. Mungo's months ago after…" he trailed off and Harry raised a brow at him. "After what?" Brian shook his head. "A couple of magic-users were in a car accident a few months ago while I was on call. The hospital's got a few apparition points but several of them had been…malfunctioning lately and the few that still worked properly were jammed with people trying to get all over." Brian shook his head and Harry's frown steadily deepened.

"There are a few emergency points throughout the hospital but you needed higher clearance than I had to get to them. I…I didn't make it in time." Brian fell silent. "What happened, Brian?" Remus asked, his soft voice visibly calming the man. "One of the males was dead by the time I arrived and the other…it was too late for my magic to do anything. Skele-grow and other such potions can restore the bone but there was no way anyone at St. Mungo's could restore the nerves in the spine. He was paralyzed."

Harry forced himself to stay calm, stay quiet. If he exploded now, he wouldn't be able to hear the rest. His nails dug into his palms with the effort, but he said nothing as Brian finally continued.

"I had to leave. I had to find a job I could do without magic. What good is having magic if I can't help the people that depend on it? I didn't know they were your friends, or Seamus', I swear," Brian said, voice pleading for Harry to believe him. Harry sighed and shook his head, feeling the anger drain from him. "It was more than that. The man who died was Dean Thomas. He was Seamus' boyfriend." Brian's face paled so quickly that Harry thought he'd faint. "Oh…oh, shit," the other man murmured. "Oh, God," he cried as he jumped up. He looked around the room frantically for a moment. Then his eyes fell on Harry. "I have to find him; I have to…oh, God!" As quickly as his face turned white, it turned green and Remus whipped out his wand and summoned the wastebasket in time for Brian to make use of it.

"Well, now," Remus started, trying to ignore the sounds of retching; "I suppose that settles the question of belief then, doesn't it?" Harry nodded again, teeth clenched as he tried to pretend he wasn't smelling anything less than pleasant. Brian slowly stood, wiping carefully at his face and spinning towards the door without another word.

"Mr. Anders," Remus called. Brian paused long enough to turn and face the men. "I've answered your questions. Now I've got to go find Seamus." The panicked look entered his eyes once more and Harry watched as the wizard forced it away. He spun and started to walk out again. This time Harry's words stopped him as he reached the door.

"Do you love him?"

Brian stood frozen, not looking behind him and not appearing to see what was in front. "That's why you want to find him, right?" Harry continued. "You think you love him. Anders, Seamus was with Dean for eight years. Do you really think you can get over that in a few weeks? Do you think he can?" At last, Brian looked over his shoulder, meeting Harry's angry gaze with a glare so cold Harry actually shivered. Then he faced forward again and walked out. Moments later, he and Remus could hear the front door close.

"That was harsh, Harry," Remus chided him gently. Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know. But it's something that he needs to think about. For Seamus' sake, if no one else's."

**A/N: Okay. That's all for now. Did it clear anything up? And sorry no HD action. Just wait for it. Any how, here're my shout-outs: curioscat, MorteDolce, fifespice, Ann, AngelikRebel, Samairi, azamystic, Peaceful Angel, silverpen18, lemonade, Hyper Hippie, LadyDragonWolfKnight, yaeko and MiraiYume. Thanks everyone! **


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Hello, hello. I know, it's been a while, but I've been busy! Anyway, I won't waste any more time with chatter, so here you are!**

**Disclaimer: That same old song and dance. Not mine, guys!**

**Matchmakers, Inc: **Lessons learned

Harry sighed as his gaze wandered around Seamus' living room. There was only one word to describe a mess like this: wrecked. How could a person make such a mess in so little time? It had only been a few weeks since Harry had last been here and he could hardly walk through the door.

Empty bottles stood grouped in a corner and piles of laundry, apparently organized in a way only Seamus could figure, were littered about the room. A glance around proved the kitchen to be nearly as cluttered with dishes piled high enough in the sink that the small window over it was partially hidden. Even the bedroom looked as though a storm had passed through. Bed sheets were thrown in random spots and clothes covered every spare inch of floor, with shoes at intermittent intervals. The cleanest place in the apartment was the closet. It was completely empty.

In any case, Harry knew Seamus wasn't there. Not that he had thought Seamus would be, but it would have been nice to have been able to talk to his friend before Brian reached him. Shaking his head, Harry started picking up some of the discarded clothes, gathering a large pile before walking to Seamus' laundry hamper. As he deposited the clothes, he looked down and shook his head again, with a small laugh. Seamus had carpet in his bedroom? Who knew?

Draco led Seamus to the living and pushed him to sit on the sofa. The sandy haired man offered no protest and silently accepting the small mug of hot cocoa Draco conjured up for him. Seamus took a few sips before he set it down and lifted his legs, clenching them tightly against his chest. Draco watched with a brow raised as steam curled up from the dark liquid then looked back up at his guest, who hadn't seemed to notice the heat.

Uncertainly, Draco sat on the sofa and shoved a hand through his hair, shifting the light strands into disarray. He wanted to ask what had happened, but stayed silent, allowing Seamus to come to terms with it, whatever it was. Draco had learned many things during the war and patience, though he didn't practice it often, was one of them. The minutes ticked by slowly, marked only by the ticking of the clock on the table. Draco watched the light from the fireplace dance along the wall.

"You remember Dean, right?"

The question was so unexpected and the answer so obvious, that Draco was taken aback for a moment. "Yes," he replied slowly, trying to figure out where this discussion was going. He could remember Dean Thomas, the upright Gryffindor whose sketches Draco had seen on many banners during Hogwarts' quidditch games, and more recently, the man who helped Draco get back on his feet after the war. Yes, he remembered Dean. Seamus nodded, as though to say "of course you do."

"Do you know how he did?" Seamus continued, still staring not looking at him. Draco nodded slowly, then realized the other man couldn't see him. "Yes," he said softly, "I know." Seamus nodded again but it was several minutes before he continued. "Is it…is it a bad thing, do you think, if I start to like someone else?" Draco's eyes widened in surprise and confusion.

Seamus liked someone? When did that happen? More importantly, why was he here, in Draco's living room asking these questions of someone he'd hated during school and certainly couldn't call friend now, when he had so many other people to talk to? At least those people enjoyed his company. Why wasn't he talking about this with Potter, his best friend? "Do you?" Seamus asked again.

Draco looked down at his feet, bare beneath the hem of his jeans, and wiggled his toes experimentally, as though the movement could help to clear his thoughts and provide him with an answer to the questions flying around in his head. Slowly, a conclusion rose through the muddle and Draco nodded his agreement to it.

"No," he finally replied, so softly he wasn't sure Seamus had heard him. The man didn't give any indication that he had so, word expressing a certainty he didn't feel, Draco continued. "Dean loved you as much as you loved him. He spent a better part of his life keeping you happy, even back when you two were just friends. He wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life sad and alone. It would be an insult to him, and to his memory." Draco shook his head. "If you fell in love again, with someone else, it wouldn't mean you loved Dean any less, would it?"

Seamus hadn't moved during the speech, then slowly his gaze shifted from the fire to Draco, eyes assessing. Still he said nothing and Draco met his gaze. "Why do you ask?" Seamus broke the contact and abruptly moved his eyes back to the fire, but Draco wouldn't let it go so easily. His day had been interrupted and he'd bloody well know why. "Why did you come here? What happened, Finnegan?"

Draco leaned forward as Seamus muttered something. "What?" he asked, his patience beginning to wear away. Just because he'd learned it didn't mean he had much of it in reserve, and Seamus had used most of his stores of patience. Seamus glanced up at Draco and gave him a half-hearted smile. "It was the last place anyone would think to look. Pretty genius, huh?" Draco rolled his eyes. That was certainly true. "Thanks but not what I meant. Not why here, why at all?" he clarified.

Seamus' face became instantly shuttered and he snarled, "None of your business." Draco drew himself up with a frown, scolding himself for pitying a Gryffindor. "Well, excuse me, but did I show up on your bloody doorstep bawling? You bloody well made it my business the minute you stepped through that door and if you don't want it to be, then you can damn well take it right back out." Draco stood and started to move away from the couch but Seamus caught his hand, pulling him back.

"You're right," the Irishman admitted softly. "I'm sorry." Seamus sighed and dropped his hand. He chewed on his lip nervously as Draco resumed his seat and arranged himself comfortably on the cushions, taking long enough to prompt his guest to raising his brows.

"Finished yet?" Seamus asked. Draco shifted a little more then nodded graciously, indicating that the man could continue. Seamus rolled his eyes and smiled softly. He scratched the back of his head and sighed. "There's, um…there's this guy…"

Draco listened quietly as Seamus spoke. He began to understand why he'd chosen here of all place to come, even if he didn't like it. When Seamus spoke about what had happened at the airport, Draco noticed the pauses between phrases that became more frequent until Seamus trailed off mid-sentence and stared into his mug of cooling chocolate, swirling it as though he could divine the future if he looked hard enough into its shallow depths. Draco gave a mental shrug. The man had taken Divinations at Hogwarts. He probably could.

He didn't know what to tell him. It annoyed Draco that he didn't have all the answers and it was a feeling that had been coming more often in recent times than he cared to admit. "There's something else," Seamus added, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and still staring into his cup. "About you and Harry…" Draco's brows drew together as he frowned at the other man. "What about us?" he asked cautiously.

Seamus frowned, though his wasn't directed at Draco, at anywhere really if the way his gaze flew around the room meant anything. Finally, it settled on him. "How are things going with you?" he asked, surprising the blond. That was unexpected. When did anyone ask how his relationships were going? Of course, Pansy did, but they were best friends. Then there was the teeny-tiny, itty-bitty, yet glaringly obvious fact that Draco never had any relationships but he could ignore that now when Seamus was staring at him so thoughtfully and fully expecting some sort of answer.

"Why do you care?" Draco asked warily. Finnegan might be sitting in his living room and may have just spent a good half hour crying on his shoulder and spilling out all his little problems to him, but Draco was a Slytherin raised by Slytherins and a former spy to boot. If this didn't sound like a man with ulterior motives, he'd roast his former superiors and serve them trussed up for Christmas dinner. Then again, that'd be something he wouldn't mind doing to the Weasley twins anyway. He noted the way Seamus suddenly avoided his gaze. Something was definitely going on.

"Of course I care. Harry's my best mate. I mean, you'd care if…" The rest of Seamus' words were drowned out by Draco's internal warning bells, clanging with all the ferocity of the bells of Notre Dame marking the noon hour. While her guest stammered his excuses, Draco put his Slytherin trained mind to work and drew a conclusion that made him gasp in anger, a sound that brought an immediate end to Seamus' string of words and caused the man to look at him warily, wringing his hands nervously.

"You set us up, didn't you?" Draco asked, eyes narrowed and voice dangerously soft. It was a voice that had terrified many before and Seamus was no different. He gulped and his eyes flew around the room frantically. "I… that is… maybe." The last came out a soft whisper, but Draco heard it. He stood abruptly and spun on his heel to stalk toward the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Seamus asked as he hastily set the cup down and stood to follow. Draco didn't turn around nor did he stop to answer "I'm going to see Severus. There has to be some kind of curse or potion that gives a dire enough punishment for your stupid plot, because frankly I can't seem to think of anything quite horrible enough."

Seamus' next words did make him stop and he turned at the base of the stairs to turn an assessing gaze on the man, leaning confidently against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and looking nothing like the huddled mass Draco had found on his doorstep an mere thirty minutes ago.

"Is this your way of telling me it worked?"

**A/N: Whelp! That's all for now. Here're my shoutouts to all you happy reviewers! Thanks to fifespice, azamystic, MorteDolce, Ann, AngelikRebel, Peaceful Angel, LadyDragonWolfKnight, Samairi, MiraiYume, and itsasledgehammer. Thanks everyone!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I decided to be nice and not make you all wait so long for this one. Aren't I a gem?**

**Disclaimer: You know, if any one still thinks I'm doing this for anything other than fun by now, seriously, you have issues. That said, not mine, folks!**

**Matchmakers, Inc.:**

The floor sparkled. The dishes shone. The carpet was visible. Harry sat on the sofa with a groan. It had taken little over an hour to clean Seamus' apartment and still his Irish friend had yet to make an appearance. For that matter, so did Brian Anders. Briefly, Harry wondered if the wizard-turned-doorman knew something he didn't, but just as quickly discarded the thought. The man had known Seamus for a month. Compared to Harry's twelve, that was nothing, a tiny blip on the timeline of Seamus' life.

Annoyed, Harry shifted on the couch and bit back a yelp as something hard dug into his back. He arched his back and ran his hand behind him, feeling for and grasping the offending object. Harry's fingers closed around what appeared to be a small black book and he rolled his eyes at it before carelessly flipping it on to the table. Leave it to Seamus to lose a notebook in his couch. Harry rolled his eyes and lifted his arms above his head in a stretch, his eyes drifting back to the book, which had fallen open.

Frowning, Harry reached over and turned the book so that he could read the words. His curse rang through the empty apartment, as did the slam of the door as he ran out. Checking left and right, Harry apparated from the hallway, wondering all the time why Seamus had Draco Malfoy's address scrawled sloppily across the top of the same page on which Harry had seen his own address.

Draco groaned silently, determined that the 'guest' outside his study door wouldn't hear his frustration. It took no small amount of effort to refrain from pounding his head against the table a few times, but that would surely be heard through the door, no matter how thick the dark wood panel happened to be.

He settled on tossing out all his resolutions not to make any more lists. Draco had a new one: Everything Annoying about Seamus Finnegan. It was a lengthy title to be sure but it would most definitely be a lengthy list.

When Seamus had asked his unexpected question, Draco had decided it would be most prudent to expel the man from his home with all haste. When that had failed spectacularly, he simply locked himself in his study, warding the doors with enough spells that the Dark Lord himself couldn't make his way inside.

Unfortunately, any spell he might have added to make the room soundproof had most inconveniently slipped from his mind, leaving Draco with little choice but to endure Seamus' incessant rambling for the past hour. Even worse, the man's topic of choice seemed to be Draco and Harry and the Irishman had been discussing with the door everything he knew or suspected about their relationship. Some of the suggestions were enough to make him blush.

When Seamus descended to handcuffs and silk scarves, Draco crossed the room and threw the door open forcefully, ready to hex the man out of his house but immediately jumped back as Seamus, who had apparently been leaning against the door, fell at her feet and grinned up at him crookedly. "I knew you'd answer for that one." Draco considered closing the door again but discarded the idea with a sigh. Seamus' head was too big to allow the scheme to work.

Instead, Draco glared down at his grinning face. "This is something you practice, isn't it?" he asked, raising a brow when Seamus just chuckled and grinned wider. Draco threw his hands up and spun on his heel to sit back at his desk. He grabbed a piece of paper and drew a few lines, then leaned back and glared critically at it before adding a few more.

"Nice," Seamus said, leaning over Draco's shoulder to look down at the rough sketch. Draco jolted from the surprise of suddenly finding the other man inches from him. "Bloody hell! Just sod off already!" he cried, standing to shove the smaller man bodily from the room. A hand flung out on either side actually stopped Draco from succeeding. "Can't leave until you answer the question," Seamus informed him looking over his shoulder at Draco in amusement.

Draco turned and shoved against his former classmate's unmoving body with his back, digging his feet into the plush carpet in the attempt. "What question?" he asked, stalling for time. Seamus shook his head with a small grin, though Draco couldn't see it. "Did it work? Do you like Harry?" Draco gave up and stepped away from his guest, shoving strands of hair from his face, flushed from exertion. "Do you know how much like a child you sound like?" he snarled. "Do you?" Seamus returned and Draco flushed with the realization that he had been the more childish one throughout their discussion.

He groaned and dropped to the floor with a sigh, crossing his legs and threading his fingers through the strands of the carpet. Seamus kneeled in front of him, grabbing his chin and forcing Draco to meet his gaze. "I already know the answer," Seamus confided softly, "so why not just answer the question?" Draco shook his head. "Because I don't want it to happen again," he whispered. "I don't want it."

Seamus released Draco and curled his legs around to mimic the blond's position. "It's not something you can shove away, and it's not fair to either of you to lie about it." Draco frowned at the floor. "Well, what about you?" he ground out. "What about you and your mate, Brian?"

For a moment, pain flashed in Seamus' eyes and Draco could have hit himself for bringing such fresh hurt to the surface but the look disappeared, leaving him to wonder if he'd just imagined it all. "We're not talking about me. You need to talk to Harry," Seamus said, his tone daring Draco to change the topic again. Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure, Finnegan, that'll go over well. 'Hey Potter! You'll never believe what I just learned. Turns out you gay best mate decided you'd be better off living the flamboyant lifestyle as a designer's lover, so he decided to hook us up. Isn't that just the most fan-bloody-tastic news you've heard since old Voldie died, eh?' Yes, Finnegan, genius. Especially when you consider the small fact that Potter isn't even gay!"

Seamus grimaced. "Not exactly what I meant. Just tell him you like him, is all." Draco's face turned thoughtful. "I feel as though we're missing something here," he mused sarcastically, "now what was it…what was it…oh, yes." Draco cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted loudly, just to be sure the bloody man heard, "Potter is straight!" Seamus shrugged. "That's easily corrected. I know for a fact Harry thinks about you in…less than appropriate ways," he said, ignoring the incredulous expression, accompanied by a deep blush, which fell over Draco's face. "Talk to him."

Draco shrugged, though there was less heat and more confusion when he again asked, "And tell him what?" He shook his head. "Tell him you decided it would be a lark to get two people, quite happy in their mutual hatred, to, well, not hate each other anymore?" Seamus shook his head. "No, Harry doesn't believe in what I do." Draco snorted and mumbled, "I can't imagine why." Seamus glared at him. "Didn't we already discuss this? You need to tell him how you feel."

"Ha! You can't be serious!" Draco cried standing and throwing out an arm. "He won't even define our relationship to me! What makes you think I'm going to throw myself out on a limb for …for something I don't even have a name for!?" Seamus watched as Draco began pacing furiously around the room. "Because that's what you do in a relationship."

Draco froze and stared down at the sandy-haired man. "You put yourself in danger with every connection you make. There are no guarantees in this business," Seamus said, running a hand through his hair and frowning thoughtfully at the carpet as though the blue strands could make sense of his words. Draco sat slowly at his desk and waited silently for Seamus to continue.

"You were happy when you were with Blaise, right? Then just like that," Seamus punctuated with a snap, "he was gone and that hurt. I can't promise that it won't happen again, but don't you owe it to yourself to try?" Draco followed his movements with his eyes as Seamus stood and brushed off his clothes.

"You're not the only one who's ever been hurt and it's presumptuous and selfish to act as if you are. Get back up on your damn high horse or broomstick or whatever it is and go do what needs to be done." Seamus strode to the door, pausing to add, "Frankly, I don't care what you do to yourself, but Harry's my friend. He was there for me when I needed him and I want to be there for him. I want him to be happy and I know you're the one that can do it. I wouldn't have done anything if I wasn't sure."

Draco didn't move as Seamus left. He could find his own way to the front door. What he was thinking through was more important. Who knew there were intelligent Gryffindors?

Seamus couldn't help the cat-like grin that spread across his face as he jogged down the stairs. He had to have been possessed by Dean to have spoken like that. Seamus knew he alone had never been that eloquent. Even before he reached the front door, Seamus heard the crack of apparition and knew another wizard had arrived. Quickly, he cast a notice-me-not charm on himself and threw open the door seconds after the first knock, careful to stay out of the way.

Harry burst in and paused uncertainly in the hall, glancing left and right. Seamus held his breath and prayed Harry didn't remember he could see through such charms if he concentrated. Harry's head jerked towards the stairs and Seamus laughed to himself as the dark haired man charged up them. Draco was in for a little surprise and he took the opportunity to slip out, closing the door softly behind him.

Judging from the amount of time it took Harry to get here, Seamus knew the other man had probably tried waiting at his apartment first. Which meant the disaster area he called home would now be spic and span, down to the very last empty bottle. He whistled as he strode down the street, not caring that he startled two muggles with the noise, which seemed to them to come form thin air. The woman crossed herself frantically and walked swiftly away, mumbling about ghosts and demons and dragging her child behind as he searched curiously for the source of the sound.

Draco was still seated at his desk when Harry burst through the door and promptly leaned over, bracing himself on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Draco smiled at the sight and stood to slide around to the front of the desk. "Ha…have… have you…" Harry tried, shook his head and tried again. "Have you seen Seamus?"

Draco didn't answer, just looked at Harry, cheeks flushed from his dash up the stairs and hair only just slightly damp with sweat. Harry had never been to Draco's home after all and so had probably run from the nearest place he could apparate to. Draco nodded silently and Harry fell with a sigh and spread his legs out in front of him, supporting himself with his arms. "Thank Merlin," Harry breathed. "He's alright then?"

Draco nodded as he edged closer, finally catching Harry's attention when he stood a mere two feet away. It didn't make sense, that he should see the man relaxing in his house and it feel so natural, especially when Harry had already claimed to be straight. But wasn't it Harry that had kissed him last night? And hadn't Seamus said he would be happy to know that Draco felt something other than disdain for his former rival? More than that, that one look at Harry Potter had brought him almost to the point on jumping the man where he sat. Draco gave a mental shrug. Why not?

Harry watched warily as Draco came slowly closer. Seamus was beginning to slip from his mind as quickly as he had from the airport. He could only see Draco, now kneeling between his legs and edging ever closer, until his soft blond hair brushed Harry's cheek and he couldn't hold back the shiver. "Draco," he whispered, hating the waver in his voice, "what are you..."

The press of lips against his effectively silenced Harry, soft as the kiss may be. It crossed his mind, briefly, that he was here for Seamus, that he had intended to give Draco time to think about what he wanted, that …his train of though crashed when Harry felt Draco's hand slip beneath his shirt, cool fingers brushing against his own warm skin. He sighed and it seemed to be all Draco needed.

The kiss became more firm and Harry gasped at the smooth tongue he felt tracing his lips. When it slipped between then, the sensations that raced through his nerves made his arms give out and Harry fell heavily down, Draco stretched atop him with a hand buried deeply in the black strands, cushioning Harry's head.

"Merlin," Harry breathed shakily in the brief moment before Draco reclaimed his lips in a kiss twice as demanding as the last. As Harry curled his arms around the blond, to hold Draco in place or to pull him closer he couldn't tell, he decided that perhaps being beneath Draco Malfoy, for once, was a good place to be. Then his last coherent thought flew away, banished it seemed, until further notice.

**A/N: That's all she wrote! Well, for now anyway. See you next chapter! And here're my shout outs! Thanks to fifespice, Ann, AngelikRebel, azamystic, PeacefulAngel, samairi, LadyDragonWolfKnight, AleRotta, Missy Padfoot, Hyper Hippie and redlightspin for the reviews! Thanks all!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Yeah, sorry for the wait. Mid-terms and all that, but here you go!**

**Disclaimer: Once more, not mine, guys.**

**Matchmakers, Inc.**

Draco grinned. He couldn't help it. Merlin himself would be grinning if he woke up with Harry Potter in his bed. He grimaced. That was a tad disturbing actually. Harry shifted a little and sighed, burrowing more deeply beneath the silken covers of Draco's bed and drawing the blond's gaze once more, even if all he could see was the other man's hair just sticking out above the pale material.

It had been a long time since Draco had had anyone in his bed. The warmth of a body next to his had been strange, but he couldn't remember when he'd last felt so content. Last night, Draco had led Harry here and they had fell to the luxurious bed, lips still locked in that furious kiss. Things had been progressing wonderfully but when Draco had reached for the button on the other man's jeans, Harry pushed away, eyes wide in fear. He'd forgotten Harry had never been with a man before and apparently it was still too soon.

Draco had smiled, a little painfully, and just pulled the blankets over them. He was not known for his patience but some things were worth waiting for. Even though, Harry had fallen asleep quickly and Draco preferred to think it was because he'd had a busy day rather than that Harry found him boring. Now, he gently pulled the covers away from Harry's face. It was almost physical, the need to see him, even if he was sleeping still dressed in the wrinkled clothes he'd worn yesterday to see his friends off.

Draco settled into the pillows and watched the other man. Dark lashes fell softly against tan cheeks. He reached out and brushed a few strands of hair from Harry's forehead, letting his hand run down the skin. It really was a smooth as it looked. Harry's eyes flew suddenly open and Draco paused in his movements before smiling softly. "Hey," he whispered, not wanting to break the feeling of peace he'd had all night. Well, most of the night, after that short visit to the restroom around midnight when Harry had suddenly groaned in his sleep. The sound had stirred an instantaneous reaction in Draco, one that had required immediate attention if he was to keep his unspoken promise.

Harry's eyes flickered across the blond's pale face. "I'm sorry," he said, voice equally soft. Draco shook his head and shifted closer, leaning his head against Harry's and watching as their hair fell together on the pillows. "Don't be. I can wait." A blush rose instantly on Harry's cheeks and Draco grinned. Was he too old for Draco to call cute? Because even with his vast vocabulary at his disposal, it was the only word that came to mind.

"Draco! Did you finish those… oh! Uh, sorry." The door had opened, words spoken and door closed so quickly that Draco had only enough time to register the voice as Pansy's before Harry cursed and bolted from the bed. His legs tangled in the sheets and he fell, cursing again as he hit the floor. Draco tried not to laugh, he really did, but the sight of Harry Potter sitting half-wrapped in green sheets, bed-head making his hair look twice a messy as usual, while trying frantically to untangle himself and cursing the whole time proved too much for the former Slytherin.

Green eyes glared as Draco started to chuckle, softly at first, then with peals of laughter that rang through the room. A higher-pitched laugh joined from the other side of the door and Harry's blush deepened with the knowledge that Pansy still stood out there, even as his face softened into a smile. Still grinning, and with cheeks pink from laughter, Draco leaned across the bed and pulled Harry face close enough for their lips to meet.

Harry groaned and responded immediately, forgetting that he was sitting on the floor tangled in cloth that didn't want to seem to release him. Draco's lips were warm and firm, and Harry could swear the blond was smiling through the kiss. A tongue found it way past his lips and Harry met it, brushing his own against Draco's and shivering when the other groaned, a sound that echoed into his mouth.

"Okay you two, don't you know it's rude to keep a lady waiting?" Draco pulled back and glared at Pansy. Best friend or not, she was about to become a victim of a hex the Dark Lord would have been proud of. As soon as Draco found his wand anyway. Another look at Harry showed the man studiously avoiding looking at both of them, concentrating instead on pulling the covers off. The bright red of his neck revealed his embarrassment at being caught, not once nut twice in the space of five minutes.

"I suppose," Draco started, rolling over and sitting up on the bed, "that you think it more polite to simply walk in a man's room unannounced, then?" Pansy shrugged. "Hey, you haven't been with anyone in years. How was I supposed to know you'd get lucky last night?" A loud groan and a thump sounded behind him and Draco turned to see, well, nothing actually. "Harry?" he asked, lying back down and leaning over the edge of the bed. The only part visible of the hero was his legs, sticking out from beneath the bed.

"Just looking for my shoes," came a muffled voice. Draco nodded, brows raised as he glanced toward Harry's shoes, sitting in a small pile next to the door. "Right, then." Draco sat up and met his best friend's amused gaze with a shrug. "He's looking for his shoes." Pansy nodded and looked pointedly at the worn trainers next to her. "Yes, well, do hurry. We actually have to stick to some sort of a schedule you know." That said she nodded and left the room.

Draco sat quietly drumming his fingers against his bed. "You know your shoes aren't there, don't you?" he asked pleasantly. A muffled affirmative drifted from beneath him. "So will you come out already?" Silence followed the question, then, "Is she gone yet?" Draco nodded as he moved to lie across the bed again, the opposite way this time. "Yes, she's gone."

After a brief silence, Harry answered. "No, I'm fine here thanks. Think I might be here a while. You should go on ahead." Draco snorted and lifted the edge of the covers to look at the man hiding beneath his bed. "Really? I'll just come and join you then." Harry's eyes grew wide as he shook his head but Draco ignored him, sliding off the bed and slipping beneath into the darkness. "Yes, I can see why you like it here. It's so nice and private. I don't know why people don't spend all their time beneath beds." He shrugged, difficult to see in the limited light. "Maybe because it's so much more fun _on_ the bed." He laughed as Harry buried his face in the blankets still tangled around him and groaned.

Pansy rolled her eyes as she strode away from Draco's bedroom, digging into her purse for the cell she always kept with her. Not that it was actually serviced by any Muggle phone company, but it was nice to keep up appearances. "Finnegan," she said and listened as the phone dialed.

After several rings a bleary voice answered. "Wha'?" Pansy shook her head. "My, you're friendly. Is that how you answer the phone?" She heard a snort from the other end. "It is anytime before ten." Pansy checked her watch. "It's past noon, Finnegan," she informed him. "There are two tens on the clock, Parkinson," he replied voice dripping with false sweetness, "and I'll answer my phone any bloody way I want, thanks. What'd you call for, anyhow?"

"I thought we had a deal, Finnegan," she answered, stepping out Draco's back door and closing it behind her as she walked to the large oak tree in the middle of his backyard, the only apparition point on the grounds. "What do you mean?" Seamus asked and even through the phone Pansy could hear his confusion, contrived of course. "Why didn't you tell you already got them together?" she asked, ignoring the faint static that came through the line as she apparated to her office.

She had dropped her purse into her chair and shrugged out of her jacket when Seamus finally answered. "It wasn't a done thing. Why, did you see something?" he asked, voice gradually becoming more excited. Pansy laughed as she remembered what she'd walked in on and told the Irishman. "This is fantastic!" he cried, so loudly she held the phone back from her ear. "Just a little farther and your Malfoy and my Harry will well and truly be a couple!"

Pansy nodded, waving away her secretary, who came to drop off the mail and was giving her confused looks, as though wondering how Ms. Parkinson had gotten past her desk without her noticing. "A little more? What else is there to do?" she asked. After a long silence, she asked again. "Seamus? Seamus!"

Drawing the phone back she realized the man had ended their connection. Pansy tried to call him back but no one answered. She put the phone down and chewed thoughtfully on the edge of her thumb, careful not to mess up the French manicure she'd gotten only that morning. There was something about that silence that was distinctly ominous and she didn't trust Finnegan for a minute not to do something that would compromise all the work they'd done.

Pansy stood and gathered her jacket and bag, slipping them on before apparating from the room. She needed to find out what was going on, before Seamus did something that would chase away the grin she'd seen on Draco's face for good.

**A/N: Alright, I hit 24 hours about five hours ago, so that's gotta be all for now. Here're my shout outs! Thanks to Missy Padfoot, AleMeansWings, Peaceful Angel, MiraiYume, AngelikRebel, Draeconin (x2), obsidian, Ann, fifespice, Hyper Hippie, and LadyDragonWolfKnight for all the reviews! Until next time!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Yes, I know. I've been bad to put this one on hold while I worked on my mid-terms and my other story. If I put up this chapter, will you forgive me? Maybe? Possibly? Why is it all I hear is a silent void? That's not very comforting, you know!**

**Disclaimer: Again, not mine.**

**Chapter 21**

Seamus grinned and whistled as he strolled down the street of office buildings, swinging the keys to his apartment on his finger, a habit he'd picked up from Brian. He frowned briefly at the thought of the man before wiping him from his mind. He needed to focus, and on Harry, not some…guy. Seamus shook his head and paused across the street from Harry's building.

His friend had sounded rushed on the phone when Seamus had called two days earlier. Apparently, he'd taken too many days off in the past few weeks and Madame Bones was now riding his case. Even accumulated sick days and personal days were not meant to be blown in one go and the intimidating witch had chosen today to remind Harry that he was, in fact, an auror and an employee of the Ministry of Magic.

Quite simply, there was no way Harry could meet Seamus for any amount of time. Seamus shrugged. There was some kind of muggle saying- if Mahmat couldn't go to the mountain, the mountain would come to him. Personally, Seamus thought the saying was a little strange for muggles. First off, who was Mahmat and secondly, mountains moving sounded an awful lot like magic, but it had been one of Dean's favorite sayings, so Seamus made sure never to criticize it out loud.

Seamus shrugged and continued whistling as he walked across the street and into the building, smiling a bit as the cool, damp air from outside changed to the cool dry air of the inside. He waved to the receptionist as he stepped into the elevator. It was going to be a good day, he could tell. He slipped a hand into his pocket, fingering the notebook he'd found lying on his end table.

It never ceased to amaze him just how easily Harry Potter fell into a trap. It made him wonder, as he stepped off the elevator and ignored people bustling busily around as he walked down the narrow hall to Harry's office, how had the man survived Voldemort?

Harry sighed as yet another secretary passed through his office to drop yet another stack of files on his desk, leaving Harry with the burden and a look of pity. It had been a non-stop line since he'd come back on Monday. Was it possible that work had gotten this far behind on the few days he'd been out? Harry thought it more likely that Madame Bones was punishing him for taking off so suddenly so often.

Someone else walked through the door and stopped by his desk. Harry cringed at the anticipated 'thunk' of thick folders dropping to the hardwood of his desk and opened his eyes when it never came.

Seamus was standing on the other side, looking in amazement at the three tottering stacks on Harry's desk. "I think, mate, that she might be just a tad bit miffed," the red-head stated.

Harry nodded miserably as he reached for one of the folders. The rest of the stack teetered dangerously and Seamus only just caught it in time to prevent a mess from falling across the desk. Harry sent him a thankful look as he flipped the folder open. "You might be right," he confirmed. "It's been like this for the past few days. Lucky for me, she's only angry for a few days at a time. It's just a matter of waiting it out."

Another secretary walked into the office and, finding no empty room on the desk, dropped a heavy stack of files to the floor. Nodding, she brushed off her hands and left the room, leaving Seamus to stare after her in awe. "Are they all like that?" he whispered.

Harry shook his head. "No. Some of them feel sorry for me." He shrugged and turned back to the file.

Seamus watched him work for a moment, then dropped to sit in the chair across from Harry. He knew from experience that Harry would face him in his own time, when he wasn't quite as busy. Seamus also knew that Harry would be busy for what looked like the next millennium.

"So, Harry," Seamus said, injecting his voice with all the enthusiasm of a schoolgirl talking about her first crush, "what's Draco like in the sack?" He held back a laugh as he heard a choking sound from behind the mountains of folders, then watched with wide eyes as the folders, and the man behind them, fell to the floor.

Seamus waited for the avalanche to end before standing and peering over the desk at the man sitting bemused among the pile, watching as paper slid and mixed with more paper from the folders. Seamus smiled brightly. "That good, huh?"

Harry looked up, his green eyes narrowing to a glare before he looked back and surveyed the mess he'd made trying to stand. He'd fallen, of course, tripping over his chair leg and bringing down every bloody folder on the desk. Harry shoved a hand through his hair, knocking bits of paper aside. "Bugger."

Seamus couldn't help it. He smiled a little, still trying to restrain himself, then he grinned and laughed. His laughter rang down the halls though most of the people there ignored the sound. They were far too professional to admit the laughter made any one of them smile.

Two secretaries walked into the room and ignored the mess behind the desk. They saw only that the area on the desk was cleared and dropped their respective piles before spinning on their heels and striding from the room. Seamus just laughed harder.

There was no way he could do it today. He would wait, and let Harry have his few days more of Malfoy before Seamus kicked his plan in gear. From the look on Harry's face as he shoved and pushed his way out of the pile, the former Gryffindor would need what comfort the other man could provide.

**A/N: Yes, yes. I know. It's not much but I just couldn't do it yet! I'm a sap, I admit, but I won't drag it out too much longer, I promise. Here're my shout-outs! Thanks to AngelikRebel, azamystic, AleMeansWings, Missy Padfoot, fifespice, rekahneko, Hyper Hippie, Fuelled by Slash, potatoe-head4, Peaceful Angel, vilon, and LadyDragonWolfKnight for all the reviews! **


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Right well, actually, I haven't got anything to say today. Hmm. shrug**

**Disclaimer: The usual. Not mine, and I'm broke, so clearly I'm not getting paid for this.**

**Matchmakers, Inc.: Chapter 22**

Draco tried to appear calm and relaxed, not the boiling twisting churn of emotions he felt at the moment, as he leaned casually against the elevator wall, watching as the numbers indicating the floor changed from nine to eight to seven and on down until it hit one.

The doors slid open and a small group of people stepped in, chatting amongst themselves, obviously returning from lunch, if the heavy stench of cheap noodles and day old bread was any indication. Draco ignored them and gracefully shifted his weight to his other leg.

Several members of the party stared at him curiously for a few moments but eventually returned to their own conversations. It made no difference to the blond man. His attention was once more focused on the glowing numbers and the slight 'pinging' sound that indicated a change in floors.

By the time the elevator had reached eleven, the uppermost floor in Draco's building, the passengers had changed at least three times. One wizard in particular cast strange glances in Draco's directions six times in the few minutes he rode the cart down, stepping off at the fifth floor with one last look at the man still leaning casually against the smooth wall of the elevator and still watching the numbers.

And why not? It wasn't the normal behavior of a wizard to stay on the elevator for a half hour, leaning in the same spot, watching the same numbers and arguing circles in his head. Draco nodded to himself and crossed his arms, finally lifting himself off the wall.

It was time. He would definitely get off at his floor this time, and no more of this nonsense about visiting Harry at work. The man worked for the ministry, for Merlin's sake. He was probably busy capturing dark wizards or creating new anti Dark Arts spells or whatever it was they put the great Potter up to nowadays. Even so, he couldn't help the slight quickening of his pulse when the elevator slid to a halt at the fourth floor, Harry's floor, and the doors opened.

Just as he couldn't help the sigh of relief -yes! Relief, damn it!- when Seamus Finnegan stepped onto the elevator. He groaned mentally and barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he saw the Irishman's face light up like a child on Christmas Eve.

"Perfect timing, my fair haired friend!" the man exclaimed, grabbing Draco's arm and pulling him from the relative safety of the elevator. Draco stumbled a little before turning on his heel just in time to see Seamus reach out and press one of the buttons. "He's waiting, don't you know. Room 413," Seamus called as the doors slid closed leaving Draco searching frantically for another elevator.

He wasn't ready for this! It was too soon! Draco punched on the buttons that lined the wall, praying for the answering sound of the shiny metal doors sliding open. Harry wouldn't have had time to shift through his thoughts, however muddled they were bound to be, on their relationship. Did they have a relationship?

Draco froze, not caring that a younger witch, a new employee from her rather nervous attitude, nearly collided with him, only just able to avoid a rather nasty fall by veering sharply to his left. He didn't notice that she instead collided with a taller wizard striding quickly to his office, causing them both to drop their equally heavy loads.

As bits of parchment flew around him and scrolls unfurled midair, falling with graceful swirls to land around the witch who had fallen rather heavily to the floor, Draco bit his lip and concentrated on the problem at hand. The witch's tear-filled eyes gave the tall wizard pause and he helped her to pick up the mess, carrying both his and her loads to their respective destinations.

Not that Draco noticed. He was far too preoccupied with the fact that the office door just across the hall from his current position was labeled 410. The door immediately to the left read 409.

Logic, for which Draco was known to possess in abundance, told him that a sharp turn and several steps to the right would bring him to the office of the man who, now that he thought about it, didn't really need time to consider their 'relationship' as it currently stood.

After all, time to think could be time spent regretting that heated kiss, and the many following it, and the night spent so close, lying together in Draco's bed, just one whispered word from taking the chaste cuddling a step farther. From burying himself in the heat that was Harry Potter, or feeling the other man moving within his own body. At the moment he couldn't care less who was topping as long as the act actually occurred.

Thinking back on that long ago conversation with Pansy, Draco couldn't remember having felt this strongly even about Blaise and his relationship with the man, which seemed to pale in comparison to this…whatever it was he had with Harry.

He stopped, not having even realized he had been walking until just that moment and wondered if perhaps Seamus hadn't put some sort of spell on him it the brief instant that they had seen one another. How else would his feet have taken him, without the permission of his conscious self, to stand just before the open door of office 413.

He looked inside, shaking his head at the mountains upon mountains of file folders and grimacing at the amount spilling from behind the desk. Draco glanced left and right down the hall before stepping in and closing the door behind him.

He could hear whispered curses and frustrated grumbling from behind the desk and smirked as he walked forward and, putting his hands on the nearly empty surface, leaned down to see Harry roughly shove papers into a folder, lay it on his chair atop a small stack of other folders just as disorganized, and grab at another set.

Draco tsked and held back a laugh as the other man visibly jumped, scattering the papers he held and tipping over his chair. Harry watched sadly as the folders he had not-so-painstakingly put back together toppled into a mess on the already littered floor.

"You do realize," he said, not bothering to look up, "that I will never get this done. Dear Merlin!" Harry's hands flew up to tangle in his hair, and Draco smiled as he watched the man's glasses slide down his nose, giving him a rather frustrated librarian look. If Madame Pince had managed to look half as adorable as Harry managed to look at that moment, well, the Hogwarts library might have had more students frequenting.

"It's like the Blob! It just keeps growing and growing and eventually its going to eat…You are not Seamus," Harry stated, rather obviously Draco thought. Harry looked around, his green eyes blinking owlishly. "Where is Seamus?" he asked, hands struggling with another stack of paper. Draco shrugged and his smirk turned into a grin.

"Oh," Harry said quietly. A moment passed that seemed to stretch into infinity before the brunette spoke again. "Well, why are you here, Draco?" Draco's grin widened. He loved the way his name rolled off Harry's tongue. Even Blaise had never said the name in such a way as to send shivers down his back. It was an amazing feeling and Draco wondered if he could share it.

Harry was rambling, obviously nervous, as he shoved random sheets into random folders. He hadn't realized that Draco no longer leaned above him, smiling down at the picture he presented, but had instead moved silently to stand just on the edge of the mess. When the blond whispered his name, Harry blushed, remembering the night they had spent curled together beneath Draco's blankets and knowing that if it wasn't for him, wasn't for his nerves which, despite having turned to steel when fighting dark lords and evil wizards, seemed to turn into something resembling a wet noodle at the thought of anything more intimate with Draco than kissing… rather like the one going on right now.

Harry's train of thought collided, falling to the floor like the paper that slipped from his limp hands. Draco was kissing him again, in his office where anyone, including Harry's own boss, could walk in and see them, and he couldn't find it in him to care. He did find a great deal of warmth, that rapidly became blazing heat, which moved with amazing swiftness from his mouth, connected as it was to Draco's, to his toes before moving back up to settle somewhere in the vicinity of his groin.

Harry moaned, sliding a hand to the blond's neck and burying his fingers in the soft strands, so much paler, so much more silken than his own and his eyes drifted shut. Draco pulled away, pressing his forehead to Harry's and gasping in a deep breath before pulling Harry's lips back to his own.

Lightening, he decided. It was lightening that made this feel so good. Like the scar hiding beneath the dark fringe that mingled with his own light hair. Arching from Harry's mouth to his and shooting straight for his crotch. Harry pulled him closer, his moan starting a chain reaction neither really bothered to notice. His tremors set off answering shivers in Draco and Harry fell back, landing atop the stack of papers which made a rather comfortable bed, he failed to notice.

Draco gasped against Harry's mouth. Their bodies pressed together from head to hip and a man would have to be an idiot not to realize that Harry's passion matched his own, if the hardness next to his was anything to go by. He pulled back, only slightly, and his lips brushed against Harry's with each word he spoke. "I said I would wait, Harry, but I'm not a saint," he groaned as Harry's back arched. When had his hands slid down to the other man's bottom?

Harry said nothing, only nodded before pulling Draco's head down. He understood and this time he would show the blond that Gryffindor courage Draco always teased him about. He slid a hand between them, rubbing his palm against the firm chest the pressed him so deeply into the paper, and lower. Harry could feel Draco's hardness and, unlike last time, couldn't find it in himself to mind that it was a man holding him so closely. That tongue was in his mouth and stirring up such wonderful feelings and …paper?

A startled gasp, followed by the dull thud of something heavy hitting the floor pulled Harry quite forcefully back to reality. Draco hadn't appeared to notice and Harry fought the lull of that smooth tongue running gently down his jaw and the tiny nips the man placed at his collarbone. He shook Draco's shoulder, trying to get his attention as he stared up at the woman standing over his desk, glaring down with a brow arched.

"Ahem," she said sternly. Harry felt Draco freeze and met the man's gaze before he sighed and pulled away, sitting up and running his hands through his hardly mussed locks. Harry sat as well and tried in vain to calm his hair, more for something with which to occupy his hands than because he thought it might be effective. Madame Bones glared at the two as she would a pair of naughty school-boys.

"Well, I certainly hope you realize this is no place for such behavior," she continued. Harry nodded guiltily, praying that the flush he felt staining his cheeks, bloody hell, his entire face, wasn't permanent. Draco merely lifted a brow as if to say "is that all?"

"Mr. Malfoy," Madame Bones said, turning her glare to the blond. "While it may be so that you have no one to answer to, Mr. Potter is in my employment and on the clock. If you wish to continue your… discussion, kindly do so when he leaves for the day in," she checked the clock sitting on Harry's desk, "five minutes. Until then, Mr. Potter, kindly clean this office."

Then, she spun on her heel, withdrawing a wand from her sleeve and muttering the spell beneath her breath. The woman gave them a wink and levitated the fainted secretary out the door, closing it behind them.

For a moment, Harry and Draco merely stared at the door. "Harry?" Draco asked softly. "You get off at six, right?" Harry nodded, brows furrowed in confusion. Draco lifted the clock turning it to show the other man its face, which read a quarter to one.

"Do you think she'll notice five minutes?" Harry asked. Draco shook his head and stood, pulling Harry to stand next to him.

"Think we can make it to an apparition point before anyone else notices?" Draco returned, burying his face in Harry's neck and searching for that sweet patch of skin he'd found so tempting before they were interrupted.

"Not at this rate," Harry whispered, the words tumbling out on a gasp just before his breath caught in his throat. He groaned. "Where's a cloak when you need it?"

**A/N: That's all! Mostly because I'll be late to work if I don't leave now. Anyway, thanks to ANN, vilon, Peaceful Angel, Shakespeares Whore, rekahneko, Hyper Hippie, AngelikRebel, obsidian, and illicit-666 for the reviews. And wish me luck on my finals!**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Ah! So sorry! I know it's been a while, and I can't even say that I've been busy, unless you believe that sleeping is worth the time we have to spend doing it. I do, but it's still no excuse. So, I'll shut up now and leave you all to your reading.**

**Disclaimer: Right. Not mine, no money for it, so let's just move on, shall we?**

**Matchmakers, Inc.**

Walking from his office on one side of the fourth floor to the apparition point located very inconveniently on the other side and forcing himself to act completely normal became increasingly difficult. Knowing that Draco was only steps behind did not help matters any and Harry stumbled at least twice, something that brought more attention to him than he liked at any time, much less when he was attempting to escape for a rendezvous with a man he hoped would become his lover.

He wasn't sure, but Harry thought he may have been stopped at least three times as they moved. He was also unsure of what he and the interlopers spoke as they stood in the middle of whatever hall in which they had intercepted him. He hoped it wasn't anything too incriminating. Each conversation had been cut short when Harry caught Draco's gaze. The heat was intense and he blushed every time, something anyone in a half mile radius _had_ to notice. He could have sworn he saw a reflection of the glow on the walls surrounding them.

It was with a tremendous sigh of relief that he and Draco finally reached the apparition point, and just ahead of the smoke break crowd, it appeared. Harry could hear Draco tapping his foot impatiently as the wizard in line ahead of him stepped into the point and apparated to locations unknown.

Harry moved forward and turned around, only to find himself nose to chest with the taller blond. "Draco?" he asked softly and felt rather than heard the breath stall in the other man's lungs.

"Hold on to my arm, Harry," Draco ordered under his breath. Harry nodded and gripped the sleeve of Draco's shirt. Over the other man's shoulder, he could see the wizards and witches in line behind them stare in confusion and whisper among themselves and he knew the next day's Daily Prophet would mention something about the unlikely position the people found their hero in, but it didn't matter. He closed his eyes, rested his head on Draco's chest and tried to ignore the sickening feeling in his stomach as they apparated to Draco's house. Merlin, he hated apparition.

Draco didn't even give him a chance to catch his breath. Harry followed him, pulled along behind the taller man from the garden to the house and as soon as the back door closed behind them, was shoved against the wall next to it with Draco's mouth covering his own.

"Draco," he gasped when the blonde pulled up for air, but was ignored. Harry really couldn't blame him. The sensations the blond sent rippling through his entire being were almost too much for him to set aside, if even for a moment, and Harry hoped Draco felt just half of what he did.

Draco ran his lips over Harry's jaw before kissing his mouth again. "Mm, Draco," Harry murmured, sweeping his hands over the taller man's shoulders before gripping them and shoving him backwards. The attempt was in vain at first. A harder shove and Harry loudly saying, "Malfoy, wait!" finally drew Draco's attention.

"Harry," Draco said softly, voice strained, "I have waited. I thought we agreed that the waiting was over." He rested his forehead on Harry's and stared into the shorter man's green eyes.

Harry bit his lip, drawing Draco's gaze. "I, uh…" he said and winced at his seeming inability to communicate now when he needed the words the most. His gaze focused somewhere behind Draco and he tried to ignore the blush that he knew covered his face.

So he was scared. So what? He'd saved the whole bloody world and killed a madman, not that he liked to brag about it or anything. He was a Gryffindor, through and through, which of course meant bravery. But, hell. So was Ron with his arachnophobia and Neville, with his, well, everything-phobia. It was perfectly acceptable for him to have one small, teeny, tiny, itsy-bitsy, little fear.

"You can top."

And there it was. Harry grimaced and closed his eyes, sure that the blush would become a permanent fixture on his face, thanks to Mr. Tact. Ah, well. Maybe a little make-up would lighten the effect?

Draco was silent and resisted the urge to move. He was afraid that the slightest movement would send Harry running for the hills and several parts of him decided that was a rather stupid idea and were determined to keep the shorter man here, trapped safely within his arms. One part in particular hoped Harry agreed sooner rather than later and was becoming increasingly difficult to control.

"Harry?" he whispered, watching him carefully. "Are you afraid?" The other man said nothing, but his silence spoke for itself. "Impossible. My Gryffindor fears nothing."

Harry's eyes flew open and he glared up with an intensity that shocked Draco. "It seems I am mistaken." He sighed and stepped away shivering at the loss of warmth and seeing a similar tremor run through Harry. He walked backwards several feet, giving Harry space enough to make his own thoughts run smoothly and without too much influence from him. Not that he didn't hope that his mere presence proved a sizable distraction to the other man. He wasn't completely giving up all hope.

"Harry," he said, voice still a little rough, and spread his hands out. "I don't love you." Harry glared at him again and opened his mouth to speak, but Draco interrupted. "At least, not yet. I think I might be reaching that point in the very near future and, knowing my past, you can forgive me for not yet admitting to it.

I do like you, which is saying something significant considering how intensely we hated each other in the past." Draco shrugged. "Honestly, ten or so years of that should have been a little more difficult to overcome." Harry's lips turned up a bit at the corners, but Draco didn't mention it.

"Most importantly, I want you." Draco watched Harry's blush deepen. If their very relationship weren't on the line, he knew he would be blushing as well. It wasn't in his nature to be so open with anyone, which only proved the insanity the man was driving him to. He actually cared. "I find you attractive and, unless I am vastly misjudging the bulge in your trousers, you do not exactly find me hideous." Harry snorted and Draco grinned for a moment.

"So," he continued, his hope growing stronger with every second Harry watched him with hooded gaze, "the issue here, ruling out all others, is the fact that we are both men." Instantly, Harry's gaze dropped to the floor and the blush that had begun to fade increased tenfold. Draco nodded. Bulls-eye.

"I already said you could top, Harry." Draco fought the urge to walk to Harry, staying away and watching as the shorter man pushed himself back against the wall. He sighed. "Harry, this is your decision. I won't force you to do anything." Draco frowned when Harry visibly relaxed. What the hell? Did he think he'd rape someone? So much for faith. Pushing away his irritation, Draco continued. "Look, whatever else is between us, or was between us, or will be between us, doesn't matter. At least, not right now."

Draco shoved a hand in his hair. This was not what he meant at all. Why couldn't he get it right? "What I mean to say is, Harry, we like each other. Or rather, there is a mutual attraction. Relationships have been built on less. The way I see it, you can do one of two things." He took a deep breath.

"You can walk out the door now. Whatever we have won't go away, won't grow, or fade. You'll always doubt that you made the right decision. You might regret it later, but you'll know that you're safe. Anyone who avoids risks is always secure in the knowledge that they are safe. You'll stay in one place forever, but that's okay, because you won't ever have to fear anything."

"Or you can come over here, to me. We can find out where this attraction leads us and if it's something we want to pursue, something we want to keep. Maybe it is for real, maybe it isn't," Draco shrugged. "We'll never find out if you stand over there, cowering against the wall." Draco fell quiet. There it was.

**A/N: That's all of it, too. Sorry folks, but it's a good place to end don't you think? Nice little cliffhanger and every thing. Hate those things. Anyhow, here're my thanks! Thanks to** **fifespice, Ann, claire2007, tia, hjp, ItsukaFuuryu, il, Zoomi, rekahneko, silverpen 18, Peaceful Angel, MissyAllykins, MiraiYume, Blade Maxwell- Goddess of Death (x2), and Rokuro. Thanks All! **

**PS: So, so, sooooo sorry about the wait! **


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Alright. I lied. I felt so bad for being away so long I decided to make up for it by doing something I've never done before. Post two chapters in one day! For the same story, anyway. Thus, without further ado, the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Okay, just a little more ado. I don't own this thing folks, but I'm seriously excited that the last book is finally out! And it's so good too! Whoot! Go, Rowling!**

**Matchmakers, Inc.**

**Chapter 24**

Harry bit his lip and eyed the man standing several feet away. As much as he hated to admit it, he _was_ cowering. It wasn't as if he meant to, but just the thought of lying in that bed with Draco stirred as many fears as it did desires in him. He wanted very much to press himself against the man and kiss him, feel his shoulders flex beneath his hands and his arms come around to pull him ever closer.

He released his lip and began chewing on his thumbnail instead. Alright, so back in his office he hadn't cared that Draco was a man, had even headed towards giving the man a full hand job. The difference between there and here was about 200 people, a hundred or so offices and a faulty lock on his door. Here was safe, secure, and very nearly impenetrable and Harry knew that there was no way Parkinson would show up tonight.

Across the hall, Draco's shoulders fell slightly, forcing Harry to realize the length of his silence. He met Draco's gaze. It wasn't the steady confidant gaze he'd become used to all through school and in recent weeks, but rather the hopeless gaze he'd seen only on a few occasions. In that instant, when he realized that maybe, just maybe, his answer did matter to Draco, Harry decided it mattered to him too. He wanted to know where this would go and he knew how to find out.

In the space of a moment, Harry had crossed the room separating him from the taller blond and had curled his arms around his waist, smiling when he felt the other man stiffen with shock. "Harry?" he asked, voice soft.

Harry looked up. "What the hell, Malfoy? Are you just going to stand there and gawk or are you going to kiss me?" When Draco smiled, Harry almost jumped at the sincerity of it. He barely had time to register the sudden fluttering in his stomach before Draco's lips were on his.

Merlin, had any of their other kisses tasted so sweet? Draco's lips, smooth and firm, massaged his and Harry moaned. He would swear they hadn't but he couldn't remember that far back. In any case, a comparison took way too much concentration.

Draco's tongue slipped between Harry's lips and pressed gently against his teeth, asking for entrance. Harry opened his mouth and met Draco's tongue with his own. The press and slip of their tongues twining together sent tingles racing down his spine and heat pooled in his groin.

Draco pulled away slightly and kissed a trail to Harry's ear. "Come on, Harry," he whispered, lips brushing softly against the lobe with each word. "Follow me."

Harry didn't have to nod; he simply followed Draco from the hall, up the stairs and to the bedroom. Once there, Draco's hand slid up from Harry's wrist and to his hair, pulling Harry closer until their lips met again. Harry slipped his hands into Draco's jacket and ran his fingers up the other man's sides, smiling as he felt the clenching of firm muscle even through the shirt. As their tongues slid together, inciting fire in locations further south, Harry drew his hands forward and began to unbutton Draco's shirt.

He was so distracted by his task and by the fingers playing softly in his hair, that Harry didn't notice the hand slowly undressing him. When he slid Draco's shirt and jacket from his shoulders and pushed forward, Harry gasped at the unexpected sensation of flesh on flesh.

Draco's low chuckle sounded in his ear. "You didn't expect me to allow you clothes, did you, Harry?" Harry shook his head and buried his face in Draco's neck, reveling in the sweet smell that wafted up from the warm skin and trying not to tremble too much as the other man's hands drifted down and unbuttoned his trousers.

His sensitivity seemed to have increased, making every touch, every brush of Draco against his skin send lightening through his being; so much so that Harry felt he must be made of nothing but pure nervous energy. Then Draco started moving forward, pushing Harry back until he stumbled and fell, sitting, onto the bed.

Draco knelt on the floor in front of him and Harry could feel the heat of his gaze as it passed along him torso and fell between his legs. "Draco," he murmured, fighting the blush that came to his face.

The blond didn't answer or shift his eyes. "Merlin, Harry," he breathed. Then he smirked up at Harry from beneath the hair that had slipped over his brow. "Ready then, are we?"

Harry's blush heightened. "Shut up already," he returned a statement that lost most of its effect with the gasp that escaped on the last words and the moan that followed immediately thereafter.

Draco kissed him softly again on the head of his penis and Harry tried to stifle a gasp behind his hand. He was painfully erect and Draco's gentle touch did absolutely nothing and everything for him. He whimpered and bit down on his finger when he felt the warm wet slip of the other man's tongue trace a fiery path from his crotch to his chest, pausing for brief moments that felt like an eternity to administer heated kisses to each of Harry's nipples.

Draco moved slowly and steadily higher, caressing Harry's collarbone with his lips, sucking softly at the point on his throat through which the blood seemed to flow more thickly than usual, and finally coming to rest at a hover just above his lips.

Harry couldn't quite get his eyes to focus, his vision alternating between soft blur and startling clarity, even after he felt Draco slip his glasses from his face. He was now lying flat on the bed and he could feel heat radiating in waves from the body lingering over his own. No one would call him smart, but he wasn't exactly an idiot and it didn't take a genius to know that the body above him was as naked as he was. That wasn't important. The thing that mattered most right now was how long it would stay up there floating before coming down.

When Draco made no further movements, Harry decided to take matters into his own hands and slipped his arms around Draco's back, pulling gently but insistently until the taller man lowered himself carefully. Harry gasped. He knew Draco had been naked but to feel it for himself, from chest to thigh, caused such heat to erupt in him that he thought that pure will must be the only thing that kept him from coming.

Draco smiled against his face and softly kissed his cheek. "I promised, didn't I?" he whispered softly, his breath grazing Harry's ear. Before Harry could figure out what his partner meant to do, Draco had rolled, switching their positions so that Harry looked down on him. He was still smiling; a soft seductive smile that made Harry's heart thump a little harder, as if pushing the heated blood through his veins was a difficult chore.

"Draco," he said, not caring that his voice had lowered to a husky tenor. "What… um…" Harry trailed off, feeling himself blush to the tips of his ears.

Draco laughed gently and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, pulling him down for a kiss that curled his toes. "You are not a virgin, Harry, and Seamus, as obnoxious and talkative as he is, must have shared some of his experiences with Dean with you, most likely without your consent."

Harry nodded, biting his lip and still blushing. Slowly, he ran a hand down Draco's side before slipping it beneath the blond. Eyes never leaving his face, Harry pushed a finger inside Draco. Draco gasped slightly, eyes drifting closed as twin stains of red appeared high on his cheeks.

Harry worked his finger inside of Draco for several moments, then slipped a second and a third finger inside, watching each change of expression on the other man's face, listening to every gasp and sigh and soft little moan. When Draco's hips bucked, pressing his erection against Harry's, he withdrew his fingers and poised himself against Draco's entrance.

Draco's eyes opened when he didn't move and sent him a look of heat so intense, Harry could swear he felt the flames. Draco pulled his head down, kissing him and twining their tongues together as Harry pushed himself in. Harry gasped against Draco's mouth. Gods, the heat, and he was so tight.

He tore his mouth away from Draco's, clenching his eyes shut and burying his face in Draco's pale neck. Draco's moan of protest made him start moving again, slowly in and out. Draco's back arched pressing him so tight against Harry he was sure not even a molecule of air could pass between them.

Encouraged by Draco's reaction, and by the fingers digging into his shoulders, Harry moved faster, the increased friction exciting him so much that he wasn't sure he would last much longer. Draco's hands were moving on his back, pulling him closer, caressing his muscles and clenching at his skin, and his gasps echoed in Harry's ears.

Even with his eyes tightly closed, Harry could see sparks of light dancing through the edges of his vision and he felt, Merlin he felt it!, when Draco came, spilling his desire between them with a hoarse cry and tightening around Harry so much that he followed, yelling into Draco's neck as the world seemed to explode into thousands, millions of glittering shards of life.

**A/N: Right then. That's all for now. Hmm, that's the first time I've ever written one of these scenes. Now that I'm all nice and embarrassed, I'll just send out my thanks and be off. Thanks for reading! (Oh, and I know I put up two chapters at once, but I'd still like reviews on both of them. Thanks again!)**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Hello all and welcome back! (Probably…)**

**Disclaimer: Same old, same old. Not mine.**

**Matchmakers, Inc.**

**Chapter 25**

Draco woke slowly, an unfamiliar weight laying heavy across chest. He blinked up at the ceiling for a moment before a smile spread across his face. If he hadn't known any better, rather hadn't felt the pain he'd only had once before, Draco would have thought it had all been just a dream. Shifting slightly, so as not to disturb his bedmate, Draco turned to face Harry, reaching up to brush soft strands of black from the peaceful face. Merlin, if it was a dream, let him never wake up! He was still here. Draco closed his eyes and breathed a small sigh of relief.

Draco opened them again at the soft moan released inches from him. He watched as Harry blinked owlishly, his eyes over-bright in the waning light that filtered through the blinds. For several silent moments, Harry simply stared at him, then he rolled on his back and stretched out his arms. Draco waited for him to turn back, but when minutes passed found the other man still looking up, the blond frowned. It was then that he noticed the blush that colored Harry's cheeks.

"Harry?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You can't be embarrassed?" He felt the laughter bubbling up in his chest and tried to stifle it but to no avail. The deep chuckles resounded through the room, even after Harry slapped him, not ungently, on the arm.

"It's not funny!" the dark-haired man protested. "I've never been any good at this…this…er…" His blush deepened and spread to his neck, sending Draco into a new fit of laughter.

Harry pouted, sullenly crossing his arms across his chest. Wiping a tear of laughter from his eye, Draco leaned over and planted a chaste kiss on the other man's lips. "Careful, Potter," he said with a grin, "someone'll trip over that."

His pout disappeared as Harry slipped his hand around Draco's neck, pulling the blond closer and giving him a proper, not so much, kiss. "Who's going to trip, Draco," he asked, his words flickering across Draco's lips, "when we're the only one's here and you've already fallen?"

Draco snorted, which turned into a laugh when Harry tackled him to the bed, leaning over him with a smirk before leaning down to kiss him. He smiled as he allowed Harry's tongue entrance to his mouth and began to return the kiss with heated enthusiasm.

"Draco, you're never going to…Oh," Pansy called as she froze just inside the door to what Harry thought was a secured room. "My, Draco, it's no wonder you wanted him so badly. And may I compliment you, Harry dear, on your absolutely amazing ass."

Draco felt Harry freeze above him and he sighed. As expected, the other man turned the most brilliant shade of red and practically jumped over Draco to retrieve the rumpled and abandoned covers, hiding himself most effectively from the woman in their midst. "Awesome, Pansy," Draco remarked dryly as he propped himself up on his elbows and sent his friend a death glare worthy of the Dark Lord himself. "You always did have the best timing. I'm pleased that the years haven't dull the skill."

Pansy smiled and shrugged. Completely ignoring the nude man hiding beneath the comforter, she leaned against the doorjamb and examined her perfect nails with utter nonchalance. "Perhaps you'll not think so low of me when you hear my news," Pansy said casually, as if she were not speaking to a man lying perfectly naked on his bed, mussed as it was from obvious lovemaking.

Draco waved a hand for her to continue. If he knew Pansy, and he did, far better than he would ever admit, she wouldn't leave until she'd said what she'd come to say. That much was obvious when she had not immediately shut the door upon entering.

"Hmph," Pansy snorted at Draco's apparent unconcern at her tremendous news. "If that's your attitude, then I guess it just doesn't matter that, for instance," she drawled, watching Draco carefully from beneath her lashes, "that a certain partner got a certain designer an exclusive interview with a certain top-ranked magazine editor in regards to the release of a certain winter line." Having delivered her news, Pansy counted silently to three before receiving the response she'd been expecting.

Draco sat straight up, not caring that he was completely uncovered. "No way," he breathed. "Not…Merlin, Pansy," he cried jumping up and crossing the room, "you are the most amazing..." he looked at the hand spread across his chest, keeping him from throwing his arms around the woman.

"Draco, darling," Pansy said, "I haven't had such feelings for you since we were fifteen. Let's let sleeping dogs lie, shall we," she suggested, pointing a finger down.

Draco followed the line with his gaze and grinned when he remembered his state of undress. "Right," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and deftly steering his best friend out of the room. "Let's send you off to your lessons then."

"Lessons?" she asked, trying to look over her shoulder at Draco.

"Yes," he answered. "You still haven't quite learned how to knock yet."

The door shut firmly in her face and Pansy hmphed again. "So much for gratitude," she called through the door. She didn't wait for a response, knowing better than to expect one. Oh, well. Maybe Blaise would show her the proper appreciation for having accomplished such a tremendous feat. When she and Draco were done with their respective celebrations, however, the real work would begin. There was no way they could walk into the interview without some serious prepping.

Harry whistled as he opened the door to Seamus' apartment, not bothering to knock. The good mood he'd been in since the day before didn't lesson any at the sight of his Irish friend stretched across the couch, apparently recovering from his latest hangover. Harry grinned and flopped down next to the other man's feet. "Wakey, wakey, Seamus!" he chirped.

Seamus groaned and swatted half-heartedly at the intruder. "Piss off, Potter," was the only reply Harry received.

"Oh, c'mon, Seamus!" Harry cried, still grinning. "The world's too great a place for you to be pouting again."

Seamus cracked open an eye to glare at Harry. "What's with you?" he snarled. "You get laid?" He sat up, eyes wide, at Harry's instant blush. "Seriously, mate?" Seamus asked, all traces of his hangover gone like rain clouds in the face of Harry, burning bright as the sun. Seamus broke out into a grin. "Whoa, it was Draco, huh? I mean, I knew I had talent, but damn! Am I good or what?" Seamus laughed at his success.

Harry's expression darkened slightly. "What are you going on about? Seamus?" He watched as Seamus continued to pat himself on the back, literally and figuratively. Suspicion niggled at the back of his mind, and Harry could feel his throat dry up as his happiness seeped away. "Seamus, what did you do?"

The sandy-haired man grinned over at him. "Harry, you are so thick sometimes. Draco figured it out weeks ago. Pansy and Blaise even got it." Harry's eyes narrowed but Seamus ignored the warning and kept going. "It was a set-up you know?" His grin widened. "I was setting you and Draco up. Even I didn't guess it would work out so well."

Harry stared at Seamus, disbelief and anger radiating from his tense form. Seamus remained oblivious, laughing and talking, patting Harry on the back and making jokes that Harry didn't hear. He did hear the snap that resounded through his mind.

Suddenly Harry stood, grabbing the collar of Seamus' shirt and pulling him so close that their faces were only inches apart. Even Seamus, vision still slightly blurred from sleep and beer, could see the fury in Harry's green eyes. "I can't believe," the dark-haired man whispered in a deadly soft voice, "what an incredibly selfish bastard you are!"

Seamus met the gaze head on, his humor having abruptly disappeared. "I can't believe," he returned, "that you never noticed a thing. It wasn't like I was trying to hide it. So many times it was blatantly obvious," he scorned. "You're a bloody idiot."

Harry grit his teeth and shook his friend roughly. "You swore! You and Dean both, to never try to hook me up! And it was all just a game to you?!"

Seamus grabbed Harry's arms, forcing the man to release him, and shoved him back. "So?" he asked. "So what? Dean's dead, and he was the only one who was going to keep that promise anyway." He pulled at his shirt, straightening where the material had bunched in Harry's fists. "And so what if it was a game? You had fun didn't you?" He smiled lewdly. "In more ways than one apparently."

Harry didn't even try to stop himself. Almost of its own accord, his hand balled into a fist and he swung, punching Seamus with force enough to knock the man back onto the couch. He glared down at him, trembling with anger. "Bastard," Harry grit out, turning on his heel and leaving the apartment. The door slammed behind him, shuddering on its hinges as he stalked down the hall, not noticing the man he bumped into a few doors down.

Inside his apartment, Seamus rubbed at his jaw and cheek. It would bruise for sure. "Interesting reaction," he muttered as he stared after his friend.

**A/N: Alrighty, that's it for now! Thanks to Peaceful Angel, vilon, fifespice, and MissyAllykins for reviewing chapter 23 and to yaeko, MissyAllykins, Fanny chan, silverpen18, fifespice, HikaruNoJingoku, AmbertLynnn247, vilon, Lady Rachel Lupin, Hyper Hippie, silversongs, daemonfamiliar, claire2007, Peaceful Angel, and illicit-666 for all their review on chapter 24. Thanks, y'all!**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I'm back, y'all! And I've nothing really to say so just go on down and read the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Have to get this out of the way. Obviously, Harry Potter and his whole little world aren't mine.**

**Matchmakers, Inc**

**Chapter 26**

Draco leaned over the worktable with Pansy, showing her the changes to one of the cloaks he'd made for the winter line. Every so often his mind would wander and she'd elbow his side, bringing his focus back to things not small, dark and handsome. Each time, he'd smile apologetically and she'd roll her eyes. Draco was glad she had nothing further to say about the situation, which probably had more to do with the hour and a half long chat she'd made him have last night than her desire to spare him any embarrassment.

The door opened and Draco turned, a smile breaking out on his face when he saw Harry's lean form framed in the opening. His secretary was looking over the man's shoulders and simultaneously trying to pull him away, but Draco waved her off. Confused, she looked between the two before shrugging and returning to her desk. "Harry," Draco said, walking towards the man. "Why are you here?" As he drew closer to his lover, Draco noticed the stormy expression on the shorter man's face. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, ignoring as Pansy approached from behind.

"It's true, isn't it?" Harry asked, his tone one Draco hadn't heard directed at him in a little over five years. He frowned at it, but Harry wasn't done. "You knew it was a set-up, didn't you? Merlin," Harry laughed harshly to himself and dug a hand into his already shaggy hair.

Draco knew what Harry meant instantly and wondered if this was what Seamus had warned him about. He reached out, but Harry pushed his hand away. "Harry, I…" he tried, but the other man shook his head.

"No, Malfoy," Harry snarled. "Don't even bother. Seamus explained everything."

Draco shook his head, hurt by the sound of his last name from lips that had cried out to him so passionately only the night before. Pansy put a steadying hand on the blond's shoulder. "I don't understand, Potter," she said, her tone sharp, "even if it was a set-up and Draco knew, what difference does that make? You still fell in love with him."

Harry snorted. "It makes a huge difference," he answered, just as sharply. "It means it was all fake." He slashed his hand through the air. "All of it. Like a couple of actors playing out a role set for them by some unseen director, or toys, in the hands of a child. Not real."

Pansy's angry retort died on her lips as Draco rushed forward, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and pulling him close. Then Draco was kissing Harry, pouring himself into the kiss and he could tell, could feel that Harry was forcing himself not to respond, not to give in and return the kiss. Harry's hands fisted in his shirt and for a moment, Draco felt the other man pull him closer, right before he shoved him away.

"You felt that," Draco whispered, breathing a little more harshly than normal. "I know you did. How can you say that's not real?"

Harry glared at Draco, rubbing roughly at his lips. "How can you say it is?" he replied. "Can you honestly tell me that without Seamus' interference, we would be in the same relationship?" He shook his head, not letting Draco or Pansy reply. "If it weren't for Seamus, we would still be happy and hating each other."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the words stuck in his throat. He had once said something similar to Seamus, and for the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy couldn't think of a single response.

"Doesn't that just mean you should thank the little bugger for his help, rather than throwing away something that actually worked?" Pansy asked and Draco sent her a thankful look.

Harry shook his head. "You two just don't get it," he snapped and turned to leave.

"We're trying to, Harry," Draco burst, "but you aren't really explaining anything!" Harry ignored him and kept walking out the door. Draco turned a panicked gaze to his best friend. Why did he get the feeling that this was final?

Without waiting for Pansy to say or do anything, Draco ran after Harry, startling his secretary, who had never seen the man move any faster than a brisk walk. He reached the elevators in time to see the doors close on Harry's stubborn face and he frantically pushed the button for the next one. Seconds felt like minutes and the shiny portal finally slid open. Draco ran inside and stabbed at the button leading to the first floor. The elevator began to descend, and Draco cursed when the cart paused at the second floor. He looked up though when the new arrival said his name. He nodded curtly to Madame Bones, not trusting his voice enough to speak.

"Mr. Malfoy, just the man I was looking for," she said. "You haven't seen Mr. Potter, have you? I need to ask him a few questions regarding the letter of resignation he turned in today."

Draco frowned and met the woman's gaze, startled by the compassion he saw in it and he wondered how much she knew of what was happening. The elevator slid to a halt and the doors opened. "Thank you," Draco told her, though he wasn't quite sure why, and rushed off the elevator. A glance around the mostly empty lobby showed no sign of the other man and Draco hurried out the door.

The sidewalk was crowded for lunch hour, but Draco continued his search, walking far enough to find himself standing in front of Harry's townhouse. No light shone from the windows but that was not unexpected. It was only midday after all. Draco sat down on the steps and put his head down on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He didn't understand why Harry was so upset, didn't understand his talk of real and fake. Harry wanted him; Draco knew the desire was there. Harry didn't mind his personality, even though Draco knew there were many who disliked him. Harry loved him, or at least Draco thought he had.

Draco sighed heavily and curled his arms around his head, as if doing so could stop the tears that he could feel forming behind his lids. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoys never cried. Even with the passing of years and the deaths of his parents, Draco still tried to uphold that creed. Nothing else he had been taught as a child fit into the world that formed after the fall of Voldemort. On few occasions had he been unable to keep this rule, he shed his tears silently and never in what could be considered a public place, as Harry's doorstep most certainly was. So he kept his head down, thinking and waiting, all the while forcing his eyes to remain dry.

It was quite some time before Draco moved, sitting up with a jolt when he felt the hand on his shoulder. He looked up to meet Pansy's gaze in the fading light of evening. Neither spoke. When Pansy wrapped her arms around Draco and pulled him close, he rested his head on her shoulder and watched the sun fall slowly beneath the trees. "You know what you need?" she asked Draco softly. Pansy didn't suspect an answer and wasn't at all surprised when her question was met by silence. "You need a drink. Come on, then," she said softly, pulling Draco up as she smiled at him. "Let's go get smashed."

Seamus was still rubbing his cheek thoughtfully when someone knocked on his door. He raised his brow at it, as if just looking at the wood panel would let him know who stood on the other side. He pushed himself off the couch and walked to the door, glaring at the offending thing for not providing the information he needed without his having to move. Bastard.

He opened the door, met the nervous blue eyes of the man in the hall, and closed the door. Nodding, Seamus dusted his hands off and strode back to the couch, sitting cross-legged on the cushions and starring at the door. Seamus knew it was unlocked. Of course he did; that door was never locked and anyone who knew him knew it. He may have known Brian Anders for only a few months, but the other man knew just as well as anyone else that he could walk right in. Seamus wanted to see what would happen.

The door remained closed, but through it he could hear as Brian started to speak. "Seamus?" the man said tentatively, and Seamus curled his arms around his knees. Watching and waiting. "Seamus, I know you're mad at me, and I don't really expect to change that, but I'm going to tell you all this anyway."

Seamus shrugged, forgetting for a moment that Brian couldn't see him. "I didn't know you were a wizard, and I didn't tell you I was one because I didn't think it mattered." Seamus could hear the sigh reverberate through the door and the thump that meant the other man was leaning against it. "I liked my job, you know? Working at St. Mungo's, I got to help a lot of people, but, with magic, I never realized there were people you couldn't help. When I got to that car and saw that man already dead, I knew I couldn't do anything, just like I couldn't do anything to help the other one."

Seamus bit his lip and pulled his knees tighter as he listened to the long pause that followed. "So, I quit. I quit St. Mungo's and I quit magic. When I met you, I didn't know you knew any of them. I didn't know until your red-headed friend recognized me. But I don't regret it."

The door creaked open and Seamus found himself starring at the man behind the words. Brian watched him carefully, stepping inside the room just enough to close the door behind him and leaned against it. "Don't get me wrong," he continued, Seamus still watching him closely, though he made no further movements. "I'm sorry your lover died and I'm sorry your friend can't walk, but none of that is my fault. I felt like it was though, for a while," Brian sighed and shook his head.

"But I'm not sorry I met you. If it weren't for that night, we never would have met and I find it impossible to wish it hadn't happened." Brian reached up and scratched his head for a minute, then let his hand drop to his side. "So, my name is Brian Anders. I'm a 27 year old wizard currently working as a doorman, also a job I rather like. I wanted to come talk to you earlier, even spent a few hours trying to find you after I left Harry's friend's place, but then I thought I'd give you some time to, you know, figure stuff out."

Seamus said nothing as he reached out to his side, grabbing and throwing a pillow with enough accuracy to hit Brian's face.

"Careful," Brian said. "Your pal Harry just about bowled me over in the hall out there," he muttered, rubbing his shoulder. "Now I've got physical abuse in here too?"

Seamus snorted and ignored the man's whining. "You are the most long-winded guy I've ever met, and the stupidest, talking about magic in a public hall in the middle of a muggle neighborhood. Idiot." He stuck out his tongue. "Harry told me everything. I knew all that already!" The Irishman shrugged. "Well, except that last little bit. Why the bloody hell didn't you tell me you were 27, old man?"

He stood, uncurling himself and stretching. "I don't blame you for what happened," Seamus said softly, hands crossed behind his head with his arms folded down just enough to hide his face from the man across the room. "I was just…surprised, is all. But, thanks to you, I got to screw around with Draco's head and trick Harry into going over to the blond bombshell's house, so it's all good." He grinned.

Brian frowned. "But…" he started, trailing off when Seamus just shook his head.

"Just shut up and come here," the shorter man said, sitting back down and patting the seat next to him. "Let's finally finish that movie. Never did figure out what happened in the school," Seamus said as he picked up the remote and started the DVD player and the movie that was still in it. Brian sat next to him and the two men watched in silence as zombies hunted down and attacked the characters. When Seamus began crying silently, Brian pretended not to know and did nothing more comforting than slip his arm around Seamus' trembling shoulders. Seamus pretended it didn't help.

**A/n: That's it for now. No worries though. I'm working on the next chapter as we speak…type…read…whatever. The point is, it's coming! That said, here's my shout outs! Thanks to MissyAllykins, LadyDragonWolfKnight, claire2007, fifespice, fattoad, vilon, Ann, Lady Rachel Lupin, AngelikRebel, Hyper Hippie, and MiraiYume for reviewing. See you all next chapter!**

**PS: Which sounds better: you aren't or you're not? Hmmm….I wonder.**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: I love having the internet and not having to travel fifteen minutes to get to it! That said, enjoy this chapter, yeah?**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, it still not mine. Go figure.**

**Matchmakers, Inc.**

**Chapter 27**

Draco was working on his third beer when Seamus arrived. Pansy saw the Irishman walk through the door with Brian following close behind. "Finally," she said under her breath and patted Draco's back as she walked over to meet them. "What the bloody hell took you so long?" she asked, putting her fists on her hips and glaring at the two. "And I swear on Merlin's grave, if you two tell me you were shagging, your own mothers won't recognize you when I'm through."

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Pansy, dear, language. Must you be so crude?" He held up his hands at her glare. "I was only joking! Besides," he continued with a shrug as Pansy led them across the near empty bar to where Draco sat, "it's only been ten minutes."

"Pfft. You're a wizard," she answered, voice low, "why didn't you just apparate?"

Brian leaned forward. "I've never been here and he's no good at side-along apparition." Leaning back, Seamus heard him mutter, "There are some pieces of me I'd like to keep, thanks."

"So," Seamus said cheerfully, pushing Pansy aside and throwing an arm over Draco's shoulder. "How's the patient?"

Draco glared at him. "Sod off, Finnegan. This is all your fault."

Seamus shrugged. "How's that? You knew I set you up. You could have told Harry. Don't blame me for your lack of communication." Calmly ignoring the storm he felt stirring next to him, Seamus ordered drinks for himself and Brian.

Draco growled, ignoring the soothing murmurs coming from Pansy. "Don't blame you?" he asked, disbelief radiating from every syllable. "Don't blame you? Who said Harry had to know? How was that important?!"

Seamus took his drink from the barkeep and passed the other to Brian, seemingly unconcerned about the outburst. Brian was looking nervous and Pansy was beginning to doubt the wisdom of calling in her former classmate. He wasn't doing anything at all like she thought he would.

"Did you know Harry dated Ginny back in school?" Seamus asked, taking a sip of his beer and watching Draco over the rim of his glass. Confusion replaced the near drunken anger that had been evident in his expression. "Mmmhmm," Seamus continued. "Did you further know that he asked me and Dean to help them hook up?"

He could practically see the light come on for Pansy. Her mouth formed an 'o' of understanding and he nodded his confirmation. Sadly, the three beers Draco had finished had slowed his brain processes considerably. "So?" he asked.

Seamus shrugged again. "Well, obviously, it didn't work out, did it?" He paused to take a swig of the beer and waved the bartender over for a refill. "Harry totally loved her, but Dean knew it wouldn't work. You know the boy wonder though, doesn't listen to anyone. They stayed together longer than we thought they would. Who knows," he said, resting his chin in his hand, "maybe she loved Harry in her own way.

Anyhow, she and Harry hooked up, thanks to yours truly with a little help from Dean, and he was really happy. I know they, you know," he waggled his brow suggestively, and Pansy snorted, "a few times, which really proved that Harry loved her because he always said he'd wait for the one he'd spend the rest of his life with to do something like that. I always said he was a prude."

"You know, surprisingly," Draco interrupted dryly, "this isn't making me feel any better." He downed the rest of his drink and ordered another, snatching the glass and taking a long draw without having let it touch the bar.

"I hadn't noticed," Seamus said and continued with his story. "Any how, one day, for no reason really, Ginny just came out and told Harry she didn't even see him like that." Draco didn't look at him, but Seamus saw the lift in his brow. "She apologized for leading him on and told him she was heading for America the next day. Oh, Harry was devastated."

Seamus shook his head, and motioned for Brian, who was still standing behind him, to take the stool next to him. "He was depressed for, like, months. You could barely even talk to the boy. He made me and Dean swear never to set him up again, not that I actually agreed to anything. He thinks the only way to get something is to get it for yourself, that its spoiled by bringing in a third party."

He fell silent and sipped at his beer for a few moments before he sighed. "The way they are now, good friends and all, you would never have thought that all that went on. I think," he paused and looked over at Draco. The blond hadn't said anything and still sat facing forward, turning the glass in his hands. Seamus continued. "I think having someone to blame it on helped him to start feeling better about the situation."

Seamus finished his beer and pushed the empty glass away. Pansy had claimed the stool on the other side of Draco at some point during the story and sat with her chin in her hand and her gaze flicking between Draco and Seamus. "But isn't that just escapism?" she asked softly.

The sandy-haired man shrugged. "Well, yes, but with everything else Harry's had to deal with, I think it's alright to let him have a little bit of that. He takes a lot onto himself, which brings him a lot of disappointment when things don't go through as well as he'd hoped." He leaned back on the stool and looked up at the ceiling. "Harry's a great guy, but when things like that go south, he gets angry. You saw that, I'm sure," Seamus glanced over at Draco. "It's his coping mechanism."

For a moment, Seamus let his words sit in the air, then clapped his hands. "Whelp! Time we got going," he said brightly as he jumped down from the stool.

"Well, wait a minute!" Pansy cried. "You just got here. You haven't even done anything to help!" She waved a hand at Draco, who slowly lifted the glass to his mouth and began to drink almost thoughtfully.

Seamus gave Pansy a small half-smile. "Really? Let me change that." Leaning forward, Seamus dropped his voice to a whisper. "Draco, just so you know," he said, holding a hand over the glass to stop it's rising again and forcing Draco to listen. "Harry hasn't been with anyone since Ginny. Do you get it? Five years alone, looking for the right one."

Behind him, Seamus could hear Brian getting ready to leave, gathering his jacket and dropping money on the counter. He knew Pansy was listening, probably trying to suppress the avid interest they both knew would be showing on her face. He ignored them both, focusing his attention on the pale man in front of him and shoving his words past the alcohol-induced fog and into the part of Draco's brain Seamus knew would se the information. "Harry loves you, but he's scared. Scared that you're going to just be another Ginny, especially now that he knows I'm involved. He left so that, in the end, he's not the one watching you walk away."

Seamus removed his hand and spun on his heel, grabbing Brian's arm on the way. "So then, Anders," he started brightly, walking away from the two former Slytherins as if he had never stopped to speak with them, "what movie are we going to see?"

Pansy watched as the men strode through the door. The little Irishman knew more than she had given him credit for. In any event, it was an enlightening conversation. She turned and watched Draco lift the glass to his lips and drain the amber liquid before signaling for more. She just wondered how much of it Draco would remember when morning came.

It was nearly midnight before Pansy decided Draco had had enough, not a difficult decision when the man could hardly stay atop his stool. "But Pan-Pan," the drunken blond protested, "I's not done yet!"

"Draco darling, when you start calling me that," Pansy said as she slipped her arm around Draco's back and helped him stand, an especially difficult task as he stood a foot taller and was several pounds heavier than she, "you are so beyond done that I should have taken you home an hour ago."

Draco giggled drunkenly and tripped as he slid off the stool, Pansy's tight grip on his waist the only thing that kept him standing. "Oh, honestly, Draco," she muttered softly, "all this over a man."

Draco stopped moving and Pansy looked up at him. He hadn't heard her, had he? His hand flew up over his mouth and his eyes widened almost comically. "S'cuse me," he cried and untangled himself from Pansy to run to the restroom.

Fortunately, the room was empty and Draco ran to the nearest stall, falling over the toilet only seconds before he could no longer hold it in. Eventually, the sound of his retching faded, leaving Draco wiping off his mouth with a groan. He had stumbled out the stall and was clinging to the sink, throwing water in his mouth and trying to wash his face when he finally caught sight of Pansy standing a few feet away.

"Draco," the witch started, trailing off as Draco slowly fell to the floor, curled almost completely under the sink. He buried his face in his knees and covered his head with his arms, as if by doing so no one would know he was crying. Pansy knew. She could hear each soft catch of his breath when she knelt beside him, felt each tremor that shook Draco's lean frame as she rubbed calmingly on his back, and saw the single tear that had somehow managed to escape the man, watching it slide down his arm and hit the tiled floor.

**A/N: Not very long, I know, but I figured this was as good a place to end as any. Alrighty, time for my shout outs! Thanks to Ann, MissyAllykins, LadyDragonWolfKnight, claire2007, SLNS, Lady Rachel Lupin, Vilon, Hzuki, AngelikRebel, Hyper Hippie, fifespice, Lilangelz, and Peaceful Angel (x2) for all the reviews. I know I've said it before, but you guys are great!**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Really, I've got nothing to say. shrug**

**Disclaimer: I've said it before and I'll say it again- Harry Potter and his whole little universe belong to JK Rowling, and don't we all just love her for it?**

**Matchmakers, Inc.**

**Chapter 28**

Draco hardly noticed the knock at his bedroom door. He hadn't noticed anything really since he'd sat astride his desk chair, leaning his arms against the back and staring with dead eyes across the room at his bed. The sheets had been changed of course and the room cleaned such that even the scent of sex, which might otherwise have lingered for days, had disappeared completely from the air. In short, no evidence of what had happened two nights prior remained in his bedroom.

Even so, Draco sat still in his chair, unable and unwilling to wipe the memories from his mind. This time for sure, he would learn his lesson. If he had to stay and torture himself, imagining Harry's body, slick with sweat, on that bed, Draco would remember. Maybe then he would learn that falling in love was quite possibly the most moronic thing a person could do, rivaled only by wearing blue pants with brown shoes or trying to eat a salad with a spoon.

He had fallen in love, he realized that much. If he were given to clichés, Draco would have said that it felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest and placed beneath the uncaring stiletto-heeled feet of no less than six women, all laughing and mocking him as they danced on it. Since he despised such tripe, Draco instead said nothing, admitting only to himself that the pain was great enough that he knew, despite his own words to Harry, that he did love the blighter.

The realization did him no good now, with Harry gone to who knows where, leaving Draco once more wallowing in the pool of his own stupidity. With nothing more to do, even if he could bring himself to move from the chair with his bloody hangover, Draco simply stared at his bed and ran the words that would become his new motto thorough his mind on repeat: love sucks; love hurts; love is the height of idiocy.

The knock sounded three times more, not that Draco noticed, before the door creaked opened and Pansy stepped quietly into the room, taking in the scene before her and sighing. "Draco, darling," she tried softly. When the words drew no response, she walked across the room and put her hand on his shoulder.

Pansy stood by his side, watching Draco watch the bed. She was under strict instructions not to let Draco skip any of his normal work today, with dire warnings from Seamus that to do so would be extremely detrimental to the plan. Those warnings were but a vague whisper in the back of her mind as soon as she looked at her friend. Who could expect him to work in this condition? She wouldn't say anything, would just let Draco leave the work to her, except for one thing. "Draco," she said softly, "would you like me to cancel the interview?"

She could practically hear each tick of the second hand revolving on the clock face. After several moments, Draco tore his eyes away from the bed, looking at her with eyes only slightly red from the night's activities. "What's that, Pansy?" he asked. His voice sounded a little scratchy but Pansy made no mention of it.

"The interview, Draco, about your winter line. Should I cancel it?" Pansy waited in silence as Draco stared blankly at her. Eventually, the light of realization entered the pale gaze.

"We can't cancel the interview," Draco said softly, rising slowly from his chair and walking to his closet with measured steps. "She hardly ever goes out personally and it's impossible to reschedule," he muttered as he began shifting through his clothes, looking for just the right outfit.

Pansy watched as Draco fingered a few shirts then followed him into the walk-in with a sigh. Draco had always managed to find exactly what he needed in moments, unless for when he was upset. She looked around for a minute, then handed Draco a pair of black slacks and a stormy blue cashmere sweater before ushering him off to change.

Draco nodded his thanks and made his way slowly to the bathroom. Pansy followed him with her eyes. That in itself was a bit of a shock as Draco hardly ever changed in the bathroom. Even so, she waited patiently for him to finish. When thirty minutes had passed with no sign from him, Pansy decided to investigate.

In the bathroom, Draco stood in front of the mirror fully dressed. Pansy frowned. He seemed so disoriented. He held the brush as though he didn't know what it was for and hadn't even opened the drawer where his gels were stored. She sighed. Damn the plan, damn Seamus, and most of all damn Harry.

She met Draco's eyes in the mirror. The grey eyes looked flat, almost dead, and she sighed as she slipped the brush from his hand and began running it through his hair. Even the blond strands seemed to have lost their silken luster, as if the hopelessness Draco was feeling had extended beyond his inner realm and projected itself from every pore of his being.

If Seamus was right, and going to that interview today would somehow fix this, then the least she could do was help Draco gain at least the appearance of normality. If he was wrong, well, murder was only illegal if you were caught, and Pansy Parkinson knew how not to get caught.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," the well-dressed woman said, extending her hand to be shaken. "I'm Eliza Einsfield. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Draco murmured a cursory response and shook the woman's hand, noticing the small diamond glistening on her finger as he did. "I'd like to get started right away, if it's all the same to you Mr. Malfoy."

Draco nodded and offered Einsfield a chair as he took his own behind the desk. Pansy claimed the seat next to the woman and introduced herself while Draco took the moment to mentally prep himself for the coming questions.

"Right then Draco, if I may call you that, fabulous," Einsfield began, not bothering to wait for Draco's permission to use his given name before rushing on. "With your winter line set to debut in only a few months, and with the tantalizing teasers you've graced us with, the question on everyone's mind is, where do you get your ideas?"

Draco blinked. She _was_ blunt. "Well, it may sound trite," he answered softly, "but many of my ideas come from people." Anticipating her next questioned, he explained, "I see someone and I try to imagine what would bring out his most desirable qualities, what would make people look at him and want to get to know him." Einsfield nodded pleasantly.

The interview continued without a hitch for all of thirty minutes. Pansy and Draco answered the editor's rapid-fire questions without faltering until she changed her line-up, surprising them both. "So, Draco, rumor has it that you have a special someone in your life. Care to comment?" Only years of training kept Draco from saying the first thing that popped into his head. A glance at Pansy and he knew she was thinking the exact same thing as him. What rumors?

Einsfield was staring at him expectantly and Draco answered slowly, hoping to give himself time to think. "I'm not quite sure I know who you're talking about, Ms. Einsfield, and I don't really see how it has anything to do with your article in any case."

She snorted ungracefully, and Pansy's eyes widened almost comically. "Oh, please, Mr. Malfoy, no need to cover for him." She winked. "I won't reveal his name, though I'm sure a relationship between two such well-known people won't remain a secret for too much longer." She flapped her hand at him. "In any case," Einsfield mocked good-naturedly, "from what I've seen, the articles in your winter line seem drastically different from those you've produced previously. I thought this may be a product of your relationship.

Draco was speechless and even Pansy, always so quick with a response, seemed unable to utter a single word of sense, much less a strand of them long enough to dispute the 'rumor'. Einsfield didn't notice the shocked silence that had fallen around them and continued talking.

"Of course, I completely understand how it could happen. I myself do some of my best work when my Frank is even just in the same room." Once more she extended her hand, allowing the light to glint off her ring as she showed it to each of them with a smile. "Engaged, and anxiously awaiting the wedding."

Pansy smiled and congratulated Einsfield. Draco though he may have as well, but his mind seemed such a mess that he couldn't be sure. "I thought something may have changed for you, when I saw the clothes, and then I found out about you and…well, you know, it made sense." She smiled at Draco. "I knew right away that you two were right for each other. From what I hear, even his work seems to have improved. Though," she added with a small snort, "he doesn't seem to do quite as much any more."

"Where did you hear all this, if you don't mind my asking," Draco finally found his voice.

The woman raised a hand and shook her head. "I'm afraid I do. A good reporter never reveals her sources. Besides, I saw for myself how well you two fit together. I was at your fall show." She shrugged. "He was late but you seemed to light up as soon as he took your hand. I thought it was just the sweetest thing I'd ever seen." She sighed as if lost in thought.

Draco shook his head, trying to throw the memories of his own happiness at that moment from his mind. "I'm afraid it didn't work out, Ms. Einsfield. Now if we could…"

"What?" she gasped. "But you were so perfect together! How could it go wrong?"

Pansy recognized the tightening of Draco's lips and decided to interrupt what she was sure would be the rudest set of remarks Draco had made since school. "Apparently, Draco's feelings were unrequited and he left. It was for the best, I'm sure."

Einsfield gaped at Pansy, her face showing her obvious horror. "For the best? Look at the man! He's only a shadow of his former self!" Draco's brows rose at that. That it was true was beside the point. How would a perfect stranger know? He hadn't thought it was too terribly obvious. "As his best friend, how could you allow this? And you!" She turned to Draco. "How could you not do anything to stop it? You were both so happy!"

Draco gave up trying to be polite. "If he was so damned happy, he would've stayed," he snapped. "Once more, Ms. Einsfield, I fail to see how this discussion is important to the promotion of my winter line. I urge you to return to our original topic and leave my personal life out of it."

She sighed heavily and began gathering her papers and recorder. "I finished with the interview anyway. I apologize for upsetting you both." She stood and murmured almost thoughtfully. "It's a shame though. In five years, that man never dated anyone."

Draco's head snapped up. "How would you know that?" he asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Einsfield shrugged. "I'm an editor now, but I had to start somewhere. For the first few years of my career, I followed that man around, watching him like a hawk. After the war, everyone wanted to know everything about him."

Draco and Pansy exchanged glances. "We didn't know you were a witch, Ms. Einsfield," Pansy said cautiously.

"Oh, I'm not," the other woman replied. "I'm a squib. I can't get even the simplest magic to work for me, which is why I'm stuck with paper, pen and a tape recorder, rather than one of those marvelous Quick Quills. Rita Skeeter has seven, that lucky-"

"You were talking about Harry…" Draco prompted.

Einsfield gave him a half-smile that made Draco blush at his slip-up before she answered. "As I said, he never dated anyone. Which is a damn shame, because he is attractive. Don't tell my Frank I said that, but it's true."

There was something about what she was saying that seemed to reach into Draco's mind and bring forward words he could remember only vaguely. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, ignoring the rest of the woman's talk and trying to focus on snatching that bit of memory from the fog in his mind for a closer examination. It was long moments and much prattling later that he finally caught hold of it.

_"He always said he'd wait for the one he'd spend the rest of his life with to do something like that… Harry hasn't been with anyone since Ginny. Do you get it?_ _Five years alone, looking for the right one… Harry loves you, but he's scared. Scared that you're going to just be another Ginny… He left so that, in the end, he's not the one watching you walk away."_

Draco stood suddenly, not even caring that he knocked over a cup full of drawing pencils. If anyone knew Harry, it was Seamus. Seamus who had once confided that if he didn't know for sure it would work, he wouldn't have done anything. In anything else, Draco would doubt the sandy-haired Irishman, but in matters such as these, where the heart was involved, he knew Seamus was never wrong. Logic dictated that he was right, that Harry really did love him.

"Excuse me," he muttered and walked briskly from behind his desk. It lasted only until he opened the door, then he bolted from the room and was headed for the nearest apparition point. If he remembered correctly, Hamilton was in Boston. If Weasley and Granger could go to rehab there and still manage to stay with the girl Weasley, then she must be in Boston as well. Harry only had so many friends, and if Seamus didn't know where he'd run off to, chances were, he was with them. Which meant Draco needed to be in Boston.

Pansy and Eliza Einsfield watched Draco run off in shocked silence. "Well, now," Einsfield finally said. "That was interesting." She smiled at Pansy. "It was a pleasure meeting you, dear. Both of you." She shrugged. "Maybe we can do this again sometime, hopefully when Draco is feeling a mite bit better about his world. Until then." She waved a little half-salute of a good-bye and strode from the office the elevator, leaving Pansy standing alone and slightly confused in the office.

The gleaming metal doors slid open and Eliza pretended to ignore the current occupant until the elevator had gone down a floor. Then she spun on her heel, grinned broadly and gave Seamus Finnegan a thumbs up. "Success," she crowed. "I can see why you love this job."

Seamus smiled back. "Fun, isn't it?" he asked. "And of course, Draco will get a fantastic report on his work. It's good to see you again, Eliza," he said, pulling the woman into a hug. "How's Frank?"

Eliza waved a hand. "Same old, same old. We finally set the date," she added, showing Seamus her ring. He squealed and gave her another hug. The next hour was spent in a restaurant down the street, eating spaghetti, talking about weddings, and discussing whether Draco hopped the next flight to Boston or simply bought a portkey for the sake of speed.

**A/N: Right, that's it for now. Sorry for the wait and thanks to AngelikRebel, illicit-666, Hyper Hippie, claire2007, fattoad, Ann, LadyDragonWolfKnight, MissyAllykins, sHiNiGaMi-ArAsHi1412, Peaceful Angel, Iya404, Discombobulatedperson, and fifespice for the reviews! They are much appreciated, so keep them coming!**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: My apologies for the long wait. Doesn't that phrase sound so snobbish? Ha!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, y'all and, as is evidenced by my empty bank account, I'm not making any money on this.**

**Chapter 29**

Harry bit his lip and only just kept himself from yelling out to Ron as the red-head slipped, grabbing onto the support poles to prevent his fall. He breathed a sigh of relief and chanced a glance at Hermione. She was obviously much more used to this scene than he was. She didn't even seem phased by Ron's near collision with the floor.

Harry had been in Boston for a week. He knew that his sudden disappearance from England had raised more questions than he'd been bothered with since after the war. If Ron were to be believed, the fuss had achieved such level that one would have thought it was the Crown Jewels that had gone missing rather than a single messy-haired wizard. Harry didn't believe him though and steadfastly refused to read the paper that Hermione offered him each morning.

Dr. Hamilton had performed the operation shortly after Ron and Hermione's arrival in Boston with great success. Ron had spent the first week after surgery just recuperating. Hermione had confessed to Harry that his red-headed friend had been nothing short of impossible the entire time. If Ron had had his way, Harry was sure he would have been trying to walk even earlier. As it was, he was forced to wait, if a bit impatiently for the seven days it took to ensure that the spells had worked properly. Ron spent three hours a day working with a physical therapist, but more often could be found trying to pull himself to standing at the bars.

Even from his seat across the room, Harry could see the sweat glistening off Ron's face and couldn't help the faint surprise he felt watching the other man. Ron had always been stubborn, Harry never denied that, but he had never seen Ron push himself so far. Dusk had fallen some time ago and Ron continued his practice, determined to walk again as quickly as possible. He wondered if it was because he was truly planning on getting revenge against Brian or if Ron instead made himself work for Hermione's sake.

Ron finally reached the end of the walk, his face flushed and hair damp with the sweat of his effort. Hermione was waiting for him at the end. She gave him a hug that at once seemed to comfort him while supporting him to his wheelchair. The grimace on Ron's face as he settled himself showed his dislike at still being confined to the thing and Harry couldn't stop the chuckle that earned him an instant glare.

"Hmph," Ron snorted turning up his nose at Harry while Hermione pushed his chair from the room. "Laugh all you want now, Potter. I'll be coming for you just as soon as I beat the crap out of Seamus' buddy."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Down, killer," she said softly and led the way through the sliding glass doors out of the rehabilitation center. "Harry, good. Harry, friend."

As Ron attempted to retaliate by suggesting something along the lines of ogre pills, Harry laughed. It felt good to be among his friends again, joking as they always had. He could see the strain on Ron's face and the circles beneath his eyes and knew the other man was beyond tired, but he had, for the most part, returned to the Ron Harry knew back at school. It seemed as though the surgery had improved more than just his chances to walk. His entire attitude had shifted for the better, though bitter undertones snuck in whenever any mention was made of the accident.

The evening air was cool and crisp and a sharp gust of wind brought color to three faces. Fall in New England was beautiful, not at all the damp affair of Britain's season. At times, Harry could understand why Ginny had decided to stay here after school. Boston was an interesting city and the accents weren't as atrocious as he had been led to believe. "Hey!" a cheerful voice came from down the sidewalk.

Harry looked up, catching sight of Ginny as Ron and Hermione returned her greeting. She was smiling broadly, a sure sign that everything was going her way, not that there were many times when they didn't. An angry Ginny was scary, something even Fate seemed to recognize.

"So, big bro, how many times did you fall today?" she asked as she kept pace beside the wheelchair. Then without letting him answer, she said, "Since your nose isn't bleeding and there doesn't seem to be any marks on your forehead, I'll guess less than five."

"Ha!" Ron said triumphantly. "Only twice. You were way off."

"Ron," Hermione groaned. "Two is less than five. She guessed right."

As Ron and Hermione slipped into yet another of their squabbles, which Harry had come to realize meant that things were improving between them, Ginny slipped back to walk next to him. With each step they fell further behind, until they could only just hear the couple arguing ahead of them.

"So," Ginny started. "Now that a whole week has passed without me bugging you, I deserve a reward. Tell me what happened between you and Malfoy." Had Harry bothered to lift his eyes from their study of the pavement, he would have seen the look of mixed curiosity and worry on his former girlfriend's face. As it was, he seemed to find the cracks in the sidewalks more fascinating.

Ginny sighed. "Harry, please," she implored softly, slipping her arm around his and tugging on it a little. "You might feel better if you told someone, instead of just keeping it in like you always do." Harry's silence irritated her, but just as she was about to ask him again, he finally spoke.

"Did you love me?"

Ginny's brow furrowed together. "Of course I do, Harry. You know that."

Harry shook his head. The black strands of hair that fell into his eyes took years away, bringing back the younger Harry that had been plagued by the insecurities and doubts of a teenager. "That isn't what I meant. Did you ever love me, not like you love Ron and not like you love Hermione, but the way you love someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. Did you ever love me like that?"

Ginny had grown up with six older brothers, two of whom had become the most infamous of pranksters. She knew the value of lies, but couldn't bring herself to tell one to Harry, who seemed so hard to be trying to understand something, as if his future depended now on her answer. "No, Harry. I didn't."

Harry nodded, falling into thoughtful silence again. Ginny nudged him with her shoulder. "Hey, hero, what's going on, hmm?"

"I think… no, wait. Ginny," Harry met her gaze. "I love him. I do. Is that strange?" Confusion crept onto his face and shadowed his words. He looked back down to the sidewalk, watching as their feet moved in unison.

"You know what, Harry," Ginny asked, sighing and resting her head on his shoulder as they walked.

"What's that?" he asked, looking up to see that Ron and Hermione had stopped to allow them to catch up.

"Dating you was the second smartest thing I've ever done," Ginny replied, grinning as she waited for the inevitable question.

"Oh, yeah," Ron asked when the four of them had regrouped and started back down the side walk. "What's the first?"

"Dumping him," Ginny answered sweetly. Harry elbowed her side as she giggled. "Honestly, imagine how I'd be feeling right now if we were still dating and you told me that. I would lose some serious confidence in myself."

Harry shook his head and laughed under his breath. He doubted if Ginny could ever lose any confidence. They talked and laughed as they walked the rest of the way to the boarding house Ginny's friend, an older woman who always smelled of cookies- something Harry found weird as she was also diabetic and lived without a hint of sugar in the house, owned.

Laughing at Ginny, who had decided that singing Irish folk songs was an acceptable thing to do at dusk in the middle of Boston, Harry looked up and his eyes fell on the porch to the house, bathed in the welcoming light that hung over the door. Draco Malfoy was seated on the steps, legs drawn up so that his elbows rested on his knees and staring directly at Harry over his folded hands.

Hermione glanced between them for a moment, then steered Ron's chair up the ramp. "Don't be too long, Harry," she called over her shoulder. "Dinner is pot roast tonight, so you don't want to be missing it." Ron was unusually silent, though the flush that covered his face made Harry think it was more that he realized just what Draco and Harry were to each other than because he had miraculously developed a sense of tact.

Ginny examined Draco Malfoy for a moment, as if she could divine his intentions by testing the air between the two men. Eventually, she shrugged and turned to hug Harry, whispering in his ear. "Don't forget what you said, all right? He should hear it." She smiled up at him as she pulled away and jogged up the stairs, leaving Harry to face Draco alone.

Long moments passed by without either man moving or making a sound. Then Harry finally pushed past the thickness he felt in his throat to ask, "Why are you here?"

Draco made no response except to stand and Harry resisted the urge to step back as the taller blond walked toward him with measured steps, stopping a just over a foot away. Then with no warning, Draco drew back his fist and punched Harry with enough force to send him reeling. Harry was only just able to catch himself, his hand flying to his face and feeling the blood run over his fingers. He glared up at Draco, who was trembling with what he could only assume was anger.

**A/N: Alright, that's it for now so don't hate me. Thanks to Hyper Hippie, LadyDragonWolfKnight, silverpen18, claire2007, darkshadowarchfiend, aya404, fattoad, MissyAllykins, Ann, Slytherins kick ASS, and** **Peaceful Angel. Thanks for all the reviews guys!**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Okay, no time to waste!**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. Moving on…**

**Chapter 30**

"What the bloody fuck was that for!?" Harry held one hand to his face to staunch the flow of blood and felt for his wand with the other all while keeping a careful watch over Draco. Experience was a good teacher but he was really cursing himself for being such a poor student. He had so often seen Draco do something completely unexpected that he should have been much more aware of the situation this time.

Draco stood with his fists clenched at his side, eyes dark and glaring, chest rising and falling in time with the deep breaths meant to steady himself. Even preparing himself for the unexpected, Harry still couldn't squash his shock when the other man grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, grinding their lips together in a rough kiss, mindless of the blood Harry had yet to be rid of.

"Merlin, you're an idiot," Draco whispered when he pulled away for a moment. He didn't give Harry a chance to respond after the words, just kissed him again with a tenderness that almost brought tears to Harry's eyes. His hand slipped from the neck of Harry's shirt to his back, pressing him closer, ever closer.

Harry's eyes drifted closed and his hands gripped at Draco's waist. He wanted, needed, craved that closeness, the closeness that meant the blond was there, wanting and needing him just as much.

Seamus had set them up and relationships like that were doomed for painful, agonizing failure. Draco knew about it, had kept it a secret, which was tantamount to lying to the former Gryffindor. The pain from Draco's punch still radiated from his nose, hurt worse every time he shifted to deepen the kiss, and blood still flowed, more slowly by now.

Harry knew all this. They were irrefutable facts. Even so, he simply couldn't find it in him to care right now, something he suspected had to do with Draco's tongue finding its way into his mouth. So he ignored it all, shoving it to the back of his mind and focusing on the kiss, returning it whole-heartedly.

Had it only been a week since they'd last seen each other? Time had passed so slowly, each minute like an hour, that he felt as if years had passed. His hands slid up from Draco's waist, gliding over his back to his shoulders, gripping him tightly. God, he really was an idiot.

Long moments passed until they finally surfaced for air. As if afraid the brunet would disappear again, Draco kept a close grip of Harry, even as he muttered the spell that cleaned up the blood that had dripped to his own clothing and spread on his own pale skin. Harry's mind was such a mess that he didn't notice when Draco did the same for him. They stood for a while, foreheads pressed together but not quite meeting each other's eyes.

"I was lost," Draco finally confessed.

"Um, what?" Harry replied, rather intelligently he thought, considering the state of mind in which he currently found himself.

Draco rolled his eyes and Harry detected a faint blush high on his cheeks, though he couldn't be sure with the weak light. "I got here two days after you left, but I got lost. I blame you, by the way, so that's just one more thing you have to make up for." He sniffed haughtily.

Harry chuckled. It must have taken a lot for the great Draco Malfoy to admit he hadn't been able to find his way. He looked up at the other man and his humor faded away. "Why did you leave?" Draco asked softly.

Harry's silence stretched into minutes with no sign of relief. Draco decided to end it for himself. "Harry, I'm not Ginny."

Harry nodded and Draco smiled a little watching his hair bounce with the movement. "I know. I know that. It's just…" Harry sighed a little and pushed away, moving to sit on the steps to the house. Draco stayed where he was until Harry gave him a confused look and motioned him over. He sat next to the other man, careful not to touch him for fear of running him off.

"I was scared of it all," he waved his hand vaguely. "You never said anything about making it a permanent relationship, and you even admitted that you didn't love me. I was scared that I was the only one feeling so strongly, like before." He sighed again. "I know it was my fault, that Ginny didn't see me the way I wanted her to. I thought I could change that. I didn't want to believe it wasn't something I could change. I blamed Dean and Seamus for it, another thing I shouldn't have done."

He sighed and shoved a hand in his hair, absently trying to soothe the mussed strands into some kind of order, with only the slightest bit of success. "I didn't want to be the one who was left behind again, and with only myself to blame this time."

Draco leaned back on his arms and watched as Harry pulled his knees close and dropped his head on them. He wondered if Harry was trying to hide tears or if he simply needed a brief moment to compose himself. "I wasn't planning on leaving," Draco said, keeping his gaze on Harry to watch the impact of his words.

It was instantaneous. Harry's body tensed and he looked up to meet Draco's gaze, his expression revealing confusion and buried hope only inches from surfacing. "Harry, since the first, well, no second actually," Draco gave a short laugh. "Since the second time we kissed, I haven't been able to think about anything else. Everything leads back to you, even when I don't mean it to." He shrugged. "Especially when I don't mean it to."

He gave Harry a helpless half-smile. "Every piece of clothing I draw I think, this would look good on him. This color would bring out his eyes, his hair. This material would fit to him, show off his form without being revealing, caress his skin. Do you know how often I get jealous of the clothes you wear when I start thinking like that?"

Draco shook his head and laughed again. "Idiocy is contagious, I think. All that and I never realized, didn't realize until the day you left actually. That is, Harry, I -"

"I love you!" Harry interrupted then clamped a hand over his mouth and blushed furiously. Draco blinked at him, surprise written on his face as clearly as if someone had tattooed the word across his forehead. "I'm sorry but I had to say it first! You wouldn't believe me if I'd waited for you, because I'm a Gryffindor so you'd think it was from pity, but its okay. You can say it now."

Draco started laughing. He couldn't help it he leaned over and kissed Harry. "I love you, too. Now you know," he smiled, and flicked Harry's forehead. "I'll follow you no matter where you go, so save us both some trouble and just stay with me. And tell the weasel tart to keep her hands a bit further from you. A thousand miles away should do the trick."

Harry rubbed at his forehead, but he smiled and nodded before leaning in for kiss. Their lips had only just touched when the screen door slammed open, startling the two into remembering that they were not alone. "Yeah, boys, I know you're just bundles of raging sexual hormones but you need to keep it G-rated on the porch, okay? Now get inside. Dinner's ready," Ginny said as she smiled down at them and waited for both Harry and Draco to stand and walk through the door ahead of her.

Walking through the hall, Draco leaned over to whisper in Harry's ear, "What's G-rated?" Harry grinned and whispered back, "Has to do with movies." If he had been about to say anything else, it was cut off when they stepped into the dining room to find both Hermione and Ron waiting for them. Harry motioned Draco to a chair and the two sat.

Draco was uncomfortably aware that the weasel and his fiancée were staring at him, one with curiosity and the other, surprisingly, with emotions he couldn't read. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the time when he and Ron Weasley could simply glare at one another with mutual disgust and move their separate ways. Ten years ago he would have hexed the red-head for the look he was giving Draco now. Today, he sat and waited, because he knew something was coming.

"Draco Malfoy," Ron started, voice low and menacing, and Harry and Hermione both sucked in a breath, "did you really have to turn my last remaining straight mate into a pouf?" Hermione shook her head and hid a laugh in her hand. Harry slapped his forehead and dropped his head to the table. Ginny, helpful as usual, giggled. Draco was proud of himself for not giving in to his urge to do any of the same and merely lifted a brow at the other man. "Seriously, Malfoy! I'm feeling a little outnumbered here. Who am I going to talk about girls with now?"

"Well, if I recall, there were about 78 other boys in our graduating class. I'm sure if you start calling now, you'll find at least one that enjoys women. If not, I do know a few lesbians who could indulge your need for conversation," Draco responded straight-faced.

Ron's jaw fell and the four former Gryffindors stared at him. A small old lady bustled into the room and passed out bowls of pot roast, putting a large bowl with the extras in the middle. "I'm going to over to Myrtle's house for bingo, so I won't be back until late. Clean up the kitchen will you?" she said and bent to give Ginny a hug she hardly noticed. "You're a doll. Good night," she called and left the room.

Draco started eating. For peasant food, it was actually really good. "Um, Draco, you were joking right?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Draco chewed thoughtfully on a piece of meat. "Was I?" He studied his bowl and selected a potato, licking gravy from it before taking a delicate bite and chewing. When he'd finished the piece, he nodded. "Of course I was. There are some wizards who believe in the progenation of the species, just as there are some women who don't." He glared over the assembly. "And I thought you people called yourselves Cho Chang's friends."

Ron, who had been unable to resist a plate of food in front of him for the length of time it took Draco to confess his joke, promptly choked on a carrot at the announcement. As soon as he could breathe, he shouted, "Chang digs chicks?!"

**A/N: So that's all for now. You all want to know something cool? Last chapter got 21 reviews! My sister was here when I saw that and she totally blames you for my grabbing her and making her dance across the room with me. I love you guys! Thanks to claire2007, Ann, Hyper Hippie, potato-head 4, Iya404, paige taylor, fattoad, miserysong, Dark Cascade, LadyDragonWolfKnight, Samairi, MissyAllykins, vix-mix, darkshadowarchfiend, silverpen 18, Discombobulatedperson, frentic fangs (x9), Peaceful Angel, macaday me a nut, shoobox, Slytherins kick ASS, and fifespice (x2). Twenty-one's a lot, but give me more okay! Happy Turkey Day!**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Okay, all, this is it. The last chapter and sorry for the wait. Thanks for staying with me for so long and hopefully, I'll see you all my next go 'round!**

**Matchmakers, Inc.**

**Chapter 31**

Harry took a sip of his tea as he watched Draco laughing with Hermione, something which caused the tips of Ron's ears to turn a most brilliant shade of red. Back in school, Draco Malfoy wouldn't have been caught dead sitting anywhere near his friends, much less laughing with them, and Harry felt immensely grateful that this had been the case. There was no way he could have made it through school with the feelings that seemed likely at any moment to become uncontrollable. The genuine laugh that fell on his ears, a laugh so seldom released, did nothing to better his situation and Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Life wasn't fair, a fact Harry had decided at a young age and continued to believe to this day. It certainly hadn't done him any favors in the last week. Everyday spent in the company of the man he loved, so close he could smell the undoubtedly expensive cologne wafting from his skin, always warm even in the chill air. Every night spent just a few feet away, sleeping in the same room but thin walls and narrow beds making it impossible to do anything that might embarrass them in the bright light of day when his friends sent him knowing glances. Yes, life and Draco Malfoy were driving Harry crazy.

Draco's laugh, low and gentle, sounded again and Harry drained his tea in what he was sure was obvious as forced normalcy. Then he stood and stretched as if he were tired, though he knew there was no way he'd be able to go to sleep for hours. Ginny broke off her conversation with their host and looked up at him curiously. "All right there, Harry?" she asked.

Harry waved off her concern and said, "Yeah, just a little tired." He yawned, vaguely wondering if Ginny believed that it was real. He dug a hand into his hair and turned, missing Draco's small smile as the blond watched him leave. Harry trudged up the stairs and into his room, shutting the door softly behind him before falling facedown on his bed.

For several heartbeats, he lay perfectly still. Then, Harry buried his face in his pillow and screamed into it, teeth clenched and feet pounding against the mattress. When he ran out of energy, he took a deep breath and started again, repeating the cycle three times in his first real fit in six years. When he was finished, Harry decided his position was a little too comfortable and nestled closer to the pillow.

"Please," drawled a familiar voice dryly, "don't stop on my account."

Harry tensed and looked up in time to see Draco sit down on the edge of his bed, looking down at Harry in amusement. He flushed hotly. "You could have told me you were here," he said and put his face back in the pillow, mostly to hide his embarrassment.

Draco chuckled, the husky tones of the laugh raising goose bumps on Harry's skin as surely as if the other man had run his fingers over the flesh. He felt the warm touch of lips on the back of his neck and he lifted a hand covering the spot, but still refused to show his face.

"Come on, Harry," Draco whispered, his mouth brushing Harry's knuckles with each word. "War heroes and powerful wizards don't pout."

"I'm not pouting," Harry muttered into the pillow and stifled a groan as Draco's mouth floated beneath his hand, nudging against the neck of Harry's shirt and sending delicious shivers racing down his spine.

"Yes, you are," the other murmured and laughed softly. "But it's cute."

Harry felt his face burning and knew there was no way he could face Draco now. That didn't seemed to bother the blond, who simply laughed again as he moved to sit on Harry's knees and slipped both hands beneath the hem of Harry's shirt. He flinched at the feel of the cool hands against flesh that was rapidly becoming heated. "Draco?" he asked softly.

Draco ignored him and leaned forward, pressing soft kisses on the back of Harry's neck. The brunet gasped when the other man brushed his fingers over his chest, just barely touching his nipples. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult through the pillow, so Harry turned his head and was rewarded with a husky chuckle near his ear, followed by the briefest of kisses.

"Harry," Draco murmured and kissed him again, parting Harry's lips with his own mouth, an easy task with Harry's lack of resistance. Harry threw himself into the kiss, unable to prevent such a strong reaction after restraining himself for a week. Draco's tongue slipped into Harry's mouth and Harry pushed his own against it, delighting in the shivers he could feel emanating from the body over his.

Pounding footsteps and voices raised in excitement intruded on his thoughts and the two paused with heavy breathing, looking at the door with the hope that no one would bother to check on them. The door remained thankfully closed. Even so, Draco moved off both Harry and the bed. Harry felt the loss of warmth with more than a little sadness.

Moving quickly, Draco crossed the room, rummaged in the side table near his own bunk and grabbed something from it before kneeling next to Harry's bed. He smiled a little as he showed Harry his prize, a simple pen. Harry looked at him with brow raised.

"It's a portkey," Draco confessed softly. "It goes straight to my house." He paused for a minute, and Harry noted with vague amusement the faint stain of a blush on Draco's cheeks. "I had it made a few days ago, and believe me, it wasn't cheap. I thought if neither of us could wait for the plane to get us home…" he trailed off and his blush deepened.

Making a quick decision, heavily influenced by the growing redness of Draco's face, Harry leaned over the side of the bed and wrapped an arm around his love's neck, kissing him as he reached for the pen. "What's the word?" he whispered.

Draco muttered something and Harry chuckled as the world spun and faded away all around them, finally coming to a rest in the familiar entry hall of Draco's house. Harry paused for a minute to show his appreciation of the portkey before pulling it from Draco's hand and tossing it aside to resume his kissing. He was only vaguely aware that Draco was leading him up the stairs, and down the hall, eventually ending in Draco's room.

Clothes seemed to melt away and in minutes the two men stood naked in each other's arms. Harry traced his fingers over Draco's sides, pulling himself closer and relishing in the warmth of the body of the man he loved. Draco's lips caressed his mouth, his cheeks, and after carefully removing glasses, his eyelids, soft butterfly kisses that made Harry's breath catch. He fell to sitting on the bed, Draco leaning over him and running his cool fingers across Harry's chest.

When Draco started to kneel in front of him, Harry stopped the blond. Smiling mischievously, Harry switched their positions and almost laughed at the shocked look Draco sent him as he leaned forward, grasping Draco's member in one hand and drawing his tongue over the tip. Draco gasped and his eyes closed. Harry watched the blond's face carefully as he continued his ministrations, licking and sucking gently for long minutes before pushing himself up to whisper in his ear, "You be on top this time."

Draco was obviously surprised, leaning back to stare up at Harry, eyes still a bit glazed. "Wha…but… Are you sure?" he asked.

There was no hesitation in Harry's nod. "Draco, I love you," he said, voice low and steady. "I want to show you how much."

Draco shook his head. "Harry, you don't have to…"

"I know," Harry said with a smile and shifted to sit next to the blond, so close to his side he may as well have been sitting in Draco's lap. "I _want_ to." He slid his arm around Draco's neck and leaned up whispering in the other man's ear as he rubbed his hand slowly up and down Draco's shaft.

"I've been thinking about it all week," Harry confessed, licking the edge of Draco's ear before continuing. "I know it will hurt, but I don't care. I want you in me." Harry smiled a little when Draco moaned softly in reaction to his words and his movements.

It was a powerful feeling, knowing he had this kind of control over another human. That it would be Draco Malfoy was something he never would have suspected a year ago. Hell, he never would have suspected it six months ago. Even so, all he could think of each night the past week was how much he wanted them to be closer. It was last night when he finally reached the conclusion, after several rather stimulating and inspiring dreams of the kind that made him immensely grateful that Draco was a heavy sleeper, that this was the best way to do so.

"Harry," Draco said in voice growing huskier with each stroke, "you're making it… quite difficult to …um…to think. Harry, wait!" Draco grabbed Harry's arm, stilling the steady movements of his hand and leaned back to look at him, obviously trying very hard not to simply just give in. It made a warmth spread in his chest, that Draco wanted to make sure this was actually what Harry wanted and he could feel himself fall a little more for the blond.

"Are you sure?" Draco asked earnestly. "This isn't just something you think you need to do for me, is it? Because it's really not necessary. I'm perfectly fine with…" He broke off as Harry kissed him, slowly sliding his tongue into Draco's mouth and licking the lips gently.

After long minutes, during which Draco nearly forgot the reason of his objection, Harry pulled away and put his head down on Draco's shoulders. "Of course I want to do it for you, but," he continued quickly, knowing Draco had already opened his mouth to object, "I'm also doing it for me."

It occurred to Harry that this might possibly be one of the most important moments of his life, and it hung by what he would say. At times like this, he usually found it best to just take a deep breath, gather his Gryffindor courage about him and just talk. It didn't occur to him until after he opened his mouth however that this policy rarely actually worked. By that time, it was too late. The words had already started so he just shrugged off his uncertainty and continued headlong into the moment, with the hope that when all was said, Draco at least would understand.

"I want to know what it feels like to have the man I love give his all to me. I want to be able to give my all, everything that I am, to him." Harry turned his head and buried his face in Draco's neck, taking comfort in the soft smell that emanated from the warm skin. "To you, Draco. Please, just let me do this."

Draco's hand brushed through his hair a few times before gently pulling Harry's head back and making the shorter man meet his gaze. "If you're sure this is what you want," Harry nodded vigorously. Draco grinned. "Just let me know if I hurt you too much."

Harry laughed as the blond pushed him down to the bed and peppered his face with kisses before returning to his mouth. "I love you, Harry," Draco whispered, trailing his lips down, nipping at Harry's throat, laving his tongue over each nipple, until he finally reached Harry's erection, tracing his tongue over the slit before taking the tip in his mouth. Harry bucked and Draco shifted his body to lean a little on the other man's hips, stilling any further movements. No way in hell was he going to choke on anything before this night was over.

Harry moaned and fisted one hand in the sheets as Draco licked his way to the base of his shaft, then back up again just as he slowly slipped a finger past his sphincter. Harry's legs clenched and Draco leaned up a little to meet his lover's wide-eyed gaze. "Relax for me, Harry," he whispered and placed soft kisses on Harry's belly until he felt the dark-haired man relax. Then slowly, he resumed his task, intent on making Harry reach the same level of insanity the other man drove him to with a mere touch.

After several well-spent moments, Draco slid a second finger in and chuckled a little when Harry bit back a moan. He looked up, smiling when he saw Harry had thrown an arm over his eyes and was biting his lip. Moving slowly, Draco slid his fingers in and out of Harry, listening carefully to each moan that followed immediately after. Harry was shivering now, the combined attentions showered on his lower half enough to bring him to the edge.

"Nnn, Draco," Harry said, voice low and harsh, as if straining to keep himself under control. In an argument, it was the first person to raise his voice who lost; in magic, the first to lose his focus; and in love, the first to lose his heart. The blond had always enjoyed being the cause of people losing control and he was pleased that Harry felt so strongly about him that he was so very close to losing it.

When he slipped his third finger in, Harry groaned loudly and the shivering increased. "Ah!" he cried out and lifted himself up on his elbows to glare down at Draco. "Why are you…?" Harry's voice trailed off into a moan as Draco tightened the grip he had on the other man's penis, already highly sensitized.

Draco smiled and slid slowly up Harry's body, placing a short kiss on his lips. "Together Harry," he whispered and deepened the kiss as he spread Harry's legs and carefully positioned himself at Harry's entrance.

For a brief moment, Harry tensed involuntarily. Draco gave him a worried look and seemed ready to withdraw but Harry shook his head and pulled the blond tighter. "Just do it now, Draco," he whispered and felt the other man nod slightly.

No amount of preparation could have readied Harry for the intense pain he felt when Draco began slowly to push his way inside. He squeezed his eyes closed, hoping in some way that it would help alleviate the pain but of course it failed. Draco shoved a little more and Harry gasped. He refused to cry out; he absolutely refused to do something so weak. He'd known it would hurt, hadn't he? Too late now to back out. Even so tears welled up behind his eyelids and it took so much energy just to keep them from falling.

Then Draco's voice was in his ear, pleading with him, coaxing him to relax in gentle tones that would allow nothing less than what he asked. By slow degrees, Harry forced himself to calm down and accept the intrusion, the feeling of something foreign in a place not exactly made for it. When he did, and Draco moved, he felt the most amazing pleasure, intensified by the pain of a first time and slow friction of skin on skin as Draco set a steady rhythm, bringing Harry quickly back to the point of moaning and groaning in ways he knew he would be embarrassed about in the morning but didn't really mind at the moment.

Pale fingers closed around his penis, stroking up and down, closing tightly and loosening in time to each of Draco's thrusts, and Harry buried his face into Draco's neck, biting down of the shoulder above him and digging blunt nails into a smooth back as he cried out his release. Draco moaned into his ear, trusting harder and faster, ignoring the stickiness between them until he yelled, "God, Harry!" as he came, collapsing over Harry after the waves of pleasure receded.

A short time or a long while passed, Harry couldn't tell the difference, before either one of them moved. Draco shifted slightly and pushed himself up on his arms to gaze down at Harry. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it without uttering a sound, apparently unable to find any words, and simply kissed Harry, a sweet gentle kissed that said more than Draco, with his extensive vocabulary, would have been able.

Harry decided that moving hurt just a little too much at the moment, so with a soft smile not rarely seen on the face of a Malfoy, Draco carried him to the bathroom, washing them both gently before returning to the bed and settling beneath the covers, relishing in the warm body next to his own. He wasn't surprised when the shorter man fell asleep more quickly that he did, because he was in no hurry for the night to end.

For several hours after Harry had closed his eyes, Draco stood watching the peaceful face so close to his and sorting through every moment in his life, trying to decide what great good thing he had ever done to deserve someone who loved him so much and someone whom he loved so thoroughly. Finding nothing he thought worthy, Draco finally gave up and thanked God for such a precious gift, promising that he would one day be deserving of it and fell asleep, that same soft smile still playing at the edges of his lips.

Both men started awake when the door to the bedroom suddenly burst open, allowing entrance to Pansy Parkinson, who positively squealed in delight when she laid eyes on the occupants. "Oh my goodness!" the high-pitched scream grated on Draco's nerves and he shielded his face form the bright beams of light streaming through the window. "I didn't believe it when Seamus said you'd be here but sure enough, here you are!"

Harry flushed and lifted the covers to hide his face. Draco, noticing this shook his head and glared at his long-time friend. "Pansy, your timing is as bad as ever, I see." He leaned down, brushing the covers and his hair out of the way to plant a soft kiss on Harry's forehead. "If you'll excuse me, love, I have to go kill my best friend. It does look like a good day to commit homicide, after all. Do come and visit me in prison once in a while." That said, he stood from the bed, threw on a pair of silk pajama bottoms and chased after an amused Pansy.

Harry could hear the threats and the sound of a vase crashing to the floor down the hall and chuckled. As the chase moved further away and the noise died down, Harry heard something else. He crawled from the bed, mindless of his nudity and found his cell phone buried beneath a pile of discarded clothes. He checked the ID and laughed when he saw Seamus' name. "Hello, Seamus," he said after flipping it open.

"Hero!" came the excited voice on the other end of the line. "Feeling a bit better now are we?' the Irishman asked.

Harry smiled at the sound of yells from downstairs and said, "Yes, we are."

Seamus gave a contented sigh. "As I thought. Just so you know, I've decided to forgive you for hitting me so long as you buy me a latte later tonight. You do, however, owe me for hooking you two up." Harry could hear the grin though his phone. "Since you're a friend, I'll accept payment in all the juicy details."

Harry felt all the blood run up to his face and shook his head. "Is that all, Seamus, because if it is, I'll see you in a few hours but I have to let you go."

"Just one more thing Harry!" Seamus called through the phone.

Harry rolled his eyes. "What is it?"

After a very brief silence, Seamus asked a question that was obviously weighing on his mind. "What are you wearing, Hero-boy?"

Harry flushed and threw the blankets over his naked lap to the sound of Seamus' laughter ringing from the cell. "Bastard," he muttered under his breath and jumped when he heard a response form the door.

"I'll have you know, my parents were well and truly married a full two years before I was born," Draco huffed. Then he smiled and knelt next to Harry. Harry returned the smile and leaned over to kiss him, letting the phone fall forgotten to the floor as Draco curled an arm over his shoulder.

On the other end, Seamus looked down at the phone in surprise. Uptight Harry was turning into a bit of an exhibitionist. A particularly loud moan came through the phone, and Seamus sent an apologetic smile to an older lady who glared at him as she walked past, clicking the cell closed and pressing a hand to his face and he continued down the street. Unbelievable, really. He was actually blushing!

**A/N: Okay, that's the last of it and sorry it took so long. I wanted it to be good for the end of the story. Here're my last shout-outs. Thanks to silverpen 18, macaday me a nut, fifespice, elemesnedene, amber v, Eternal Spark, Tom'slovergirl72, potatoehead4, Ann, Robin Hammond, yaeko, Peaceful Angel, Paige Taylor, Aya404, Samairi, Discombobulatedperson, MissyAllykins, fattoad, Claire 2007, and LadyDragonWolfNight. Thanks, too, to all you other readers who didn't review but stuck with me anyway. Bye, all! **


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